Colin flinched.
“You’re not grieving,” David continued. “You’re punishing yourself for not being something no human being couldeverbe. And in the process, you’re throwing away everything that’s left, which—whether you get it or not—isa lot.”
“I’m not?—”
“Don’t.” David’s voice was soft, but sharp. “Don’t lie to me. I’ve known you too damned long.”
“Nate and I have watched your heartbroken husband struggle with his anguish. Watched that sweet boy whoadoresyou slowly unravel. Watched him fight to keep hope alive withno oneto lean on.No oneto support him!”
David closed the distance between them, his voice edged with sudden fury. “He lost just as much as you did, Colin! But he’s grievingalone! Without the one thing that would makeanyloss bearable:you!”
His voice suddenly cracked—letting his own pain show. “He’d live in a hole in the goddamn ground and call itparadiseif you were beside him!”
Colin looked down, jaw tight. “He doesn’t deserve what I’ve become.”
“No,” David said more quietly. “He deserves the man who stood by him through fire and blood and pain. The one who taught usallwhat strength looks like. He deserves ahusband. Not a broken man who’s trying tobleedhis way to redemption.”
Silence.
Then David placed a hand on Colin’s shoulder.
“Stop trying to be a god. You’re so much more likable when you’re just a man. A man who loves. A man who hurts. And even a man whofails. And maybe—just maybe—you’ll see that gracehasn’tleft you, Colin. It’s still yours. It’s stillyou.”
Colin’s throat tightened. He looked away, blinking fast.
“I don’t know if I can,” he whispered.
David gave a faint smile. “You already did.”
Colin looked at him.
“You sent him a heart emoji, didn’t you?”
Colin let out a quiet, broken laugh.
“Then start there,” David said. “You’re not lost, Colin. You’re hiding.”
He leaned in, voice low—unflinching.
“So, for god’s sake, pull your head out of your ass before the man who loves youdrownsin the silence you keep mistaking for atonement.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BRINGING HIM HOME
Colin entered the bedroom slowly, still raw from his conversations with Norm—with David. Joshua and Nate had returned over an hour ago, but Colin had stumbled to the backyard after talking with David, and he and Joshua had not yet spoken.
Now, he expected silence. Maybe even distance. But Joshua stood near the window, holding something in his hand. His face was calm—not angry, not broken, just resolved. He was a man standing in the eye of a storm that had passed but left its mark.
Colin froze. Suddenly terrified.
Joshua turned and held out an envelope. “This is for you.”
Colin took it with tentative fingers. Slid out the contents. A single plane ticket. To Dublin.
He stared down at it, confused. “What?—?”
Joshua’s voice was quiet but firm. “You leave tomorrow. It’s all cleared with Esther. Your family knows you’re coming.”
