Max scratched the top surgery scar on his right as he shuffled into the kitchen. Dressed in only the pajama pants his wife had gotten him last Christmas, he made his way over to the fridge, throwing it open so he could use its light to find his favorite mug.
‘World’s best dad’, written in the adorably sloppy handwriting of his three-year-old daughter.
Sometimes, if Max sat down and thought about it, the fact that he had a daughter was wild. For years he couldn’t even see the next day; his vision clouded by the thick fog of depression and gender dysphoria. At the time Max didn’t even know if he’d make it past his twenties, and now here he was, well into his thirties, salt and pepper hairs on his face and head, and he had all he could ever dream of and so much more.
With the fridge still open, he headed to the coffee maker and set his cup down. As he waited for his cup to fill up, Max felt a tug on his plaid pajama pants.
“Daddy, there’s a monster in my closet.” The little girl said, clutching her teddy bear.
The coffee finished pouring as Max looked down at his daughter.
“What do you want me to do? I’m scared of monsters too.” He said.
She pouted, very much unamused with her father’s antics.
Chuckling to himself, Max poured some creamer into his cup before scooping his daughter up.
As they approached her door the little girl hid in the crook of her father’s neck.
Once in the room, Max instantly spotted the perpetrator, a laundry basket filled to the top with clothes.
So after flattening everything and turning out the light to make sure there were no more mistaken monsters, Max tucked his little girl back into bed before heading to his own room.
As he opened his bedroom door, Maddie, Max’s wife, was wide awake and sitting up in bed; most likely going through the emails that had accrued while she’d been sleeping.
Leaning against the door frame, Max couldn’t help but stare. Maddie was far from perfect but she made his world go round. Early on, before Max had figured out who he truly was, back when he was moving through the world as a woman, in what felt like a Halloween costume he was trapped in, Maddie was there. From wardrobe changes to experimenting with names and binding, Maddie was there, reminding Max that his feelings were valid and he deserved to be happy.
As he leaned against the door frame he smiled, she saved his life and she didn’t even know it.
“Ohh, is that coffee?!” She asked after finally noticing him.
Max rolled his eyes, this was his favorite mug for Christ’s sake.
Letting out a sigh, he pushed off the door frame and made his way to the foot of their bed.
“Here.” He groaned, rolling his eyes as she cheerfully bounced up.
“Maxie, you’re the best husband ever!” She declared.
“I better fucking be.” He grumbled, handing her the mug with a kiss on the forehead.
After heading back downstairs and making another cup, Max headed back up to his bedroom where he climbed into bed and began his morning routine of answering emails and talking with his wife about nothing in particular.
Max was light years away from that suicidal, depressed, AFAB person he’d been as a teenager and in his early twenties. Never in his wildest of dreams had he thought life could be so simple yet wildly amazing.
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