Mara tucked away her clipboard and approached them, smiling as she heard their laughter. “You handled that exceptionally well,” she told Joshua. “This kind of loss—it’s tough, but focusing on small tasks can help you get through it.”
Joshua turned and met his husband’s eyes, then leaned against him, whispering, “I’m learning that.”
“The crew will be here shortly to start packing salvageable items. We’ll secure everything carefully and get you an initial restoration plan within a day or so.” She laid a hand on Joshua’s arm. “We’ll help you get your life back… I promise.”
Joshua leaned into Colin, letting the hope settle in. For the first time since the fire, it felt possible.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
WATCHING HIM BREAK
Within eight weeks of the explosion, the restoration had begun to take shape. Colin and Joshua had gone back to work, striving to recreate a semblance of their old routine—their old life.
At the house, the air still held a faint whiff of char and dust. The drywall was gone, and the floors had been pulled up. Exposed studs formed a skeleton of what had once been their dining room. Afternoon light slanted through open window frames, and the silence buzzed with absence.
Joshua lounged near the doorway, arms crossed. His sweater sleeves were pushed to his elbows, a thin layer of dust clinging to the fabric. Mara stood beside him, clipboard in hand.
“First wall’s up. Graham says they’ll get the rest framed by Thursday. He’s got reclaimed oak flooring coming—something warm. We thought maybe you’d like that.”
Joshua nodded, barely hearing. His eyes drifted across the empty space. Empty. The same way he felt inside.
Mara lowered her clipboard, watching him. He didn’t move—just stared, unfocused, like he was seeing ghosts.
“I thought he might come today,” she said quietly. “I saved the floor samples. Just in case.”
Joshua dropped his head, swallowing a sob. “He’s not ready,” he whispered.
A soft creak echoed from upstairs—just the house settling. But Joshua’s head snapped up anyway, heart lurching. For one absurd second, he thought it might be Colin. Coming down the hall. Coming home.
But there was only silence. Heavy. Hollow.
“ I-–I keep hoping,” he murmured, wiping at his face. “But… I don’t know anymore.” His voice broke. “I’m starting to wonder if he’ll ever be ready.”
“Josh, he’s broken. And grieving. I’ve seen it before.”
“Dammit, Mara, so am I!” Joshua blurted out. “But—but allthis?” he indicated the ongoing restoration. “It’snothingwithout him! This house needs him! It’s waiting for him! I need him! It’ll never be a home until he blesses it, breathes it in, touches it with his presence. It can’t be!” He turned and slammed his fist against a new wooden strut.
“Josh, sometimes it just takes time. Hang on. The girl who died? The police officer? It hit him hard.”
Joshua leaned his forehead against the wooden beam, breath catching again and again. Silence followed, broken only by the faint hum of a saw in the backyard, Graham’s crew steadily working, trying to stitch a wound that went far deeper than drywall and studs.
When Colin broke, it happened slowly.
Not in a single blow, but in small, quiet retreats.
Little by little, it took him, like dusk swallowing light—until the man who once lit every room now crouched in shadow.
Guilt wrapped around Colin like fog, soft and suffocating, whispering lies that part of him believed: that he’d caused the fire. That he’d failed her. Failed Hannibal. But most of all––failed Joshua. That he no longer deserved this house, this life, Joshua’s love. That it no longer belonged to him.
Joshua watched it take him—quiet at first, like breath fading.
Not rage. Not collapse. Just the steady folding inward of the man who once carried them all.
Joshua's faith in Colin never wavered.
But his love can't stop Colin's nightmares.
And now the man he loves is fading into shadow.
