I push open the apartment door, hoping to slip in quietly and collapse without an audience.
No chance.
Alice shoots upright like a firework misfiring off the couch.
Josh doesn't even pretend to be subtle. He pauses the TV and angles his head at me.
They look at me like I walked in covered in blood instead of confusion.
Alice:
"Ash... what happened?"
Josh squints, scanning me like he's checking for bruises or signs I've been abducted by aliens. He taps the remote against his knee.
Josh:
"You look like you met God and He wasn't impressed."
I swallow and force my voice steady.
"He wasn't home."
Alice's disbelief hits immediately.
Alice:
"That's it? You were gone almost two hours. You look like you're about to pass out."
"I'm fine."
Even I can hear the lie. My voice sounds thin and stretched.
Josh raises a brow.
Josh:
"Uh-huh. Because when I'm fine, I also come home looking like I saw a ghost who owes me money."
"I said I'm fine."
I sink onto the couch. My palms slide against the fabric. They're still cold. I curl them into fists to hide the shaking.
Alice sits on the armrest near me. She doesn't touch me but she's close enough that I feel the warmth of her presence.
Alice:
"Ash. Talk to us."
I stare at the coffee table. Looking at her will break me open.
"There's nothing to talk about. He wasn't home."
Josh scoffs quietly.
Josh:
"He wasn't home."
He repeats it in my voice, mocking. "Yeah and I'm the Pope."
Alice shoots him a warning look.
Alice:
"Josh, stop."
Josh sighs, runs a hand through his hair, then looks at me again. Softer.
Josh:
"Look, whatever happened, you don't have to explain it right now. But don't pretend we're idiots."
I flinch. Not because he's wrong. Because he's right.
Alice leans in a little.
Alice:
"If something went wrong, you can tell us. We're here."
I nod automatically. It feels hollow.
I can't tell them anything right now. The moment I try, they'll start asking questions. Questions I don't have answers to. Questions I'm terrified to even touch.
How am I supposed to explain why Samuel's mother looked at me like I was a ghost wearing my father's face?
No. I need to figure this out alone first. I need the truth before I decide whether to share any of it with them, or whether they're even capable of accepting it.
Teamwork and honesty never really suited me anyway.
So I sit there, pretending I'm fine.
Alice studies my face.
Alice:
"You're really not going to tell us, are you?"
"No."
Josh clicks his tongue.
Josh: "Great. Love this emotional blackout era of yours."
Alice elbows him.
"Josh."
He mutters, "I'm right," but lets it drop.
Silence settles over the room. Heavy. The kind where all three of us are waiting for someone else to break it.
It feels suffocating.
They both know something is wrong. Something big.
I clamp down on the words and manage the only thing I can say.
"I just need a minute."
They go quiet.
Josh's phone starts buzzing on the coffee table. It vibrates against the wood like it's panicking. He glances at the screen and something in his face tightens.
Not anger. Not fear.
Something older.
"Oh great," he mutters.
I nod at him. "Take it."
He scoffs. "Yeah. Can't wait."
But he still picks up.
He turns away slightly, but the room is small enough that I hear everything.
"Yeah?"
A pause.
"I said I'm out. I needed space."
His mother's voice leaks through the speaker, thin and worried and full of guilt.
Josh: "I didn't slam the door. The wind did. For real."
Alice shoots me a look. The wind definitely didn't do anything.
Josh's jaw tightens.
Josh: "Maybe if your fiancé stopped treating me like a donation packet, I wouldn't need space."
His mother says something emotional. Josh responds with the defensive sarcasm he uses like armor.
Josh: "No, I'm not being dramatic. Dramatic would be setting the curtains on fire."
Alice's eyes go wide.
I shake my head.
He's exaggerating. Barely.
The voice on the phone rises. Hurt. Confused. Begging him to come home.
Josh drags a hand through his hair, his grip trembling a little.
Josh: "I'm not running away. I'm breathing."
She says something that makes him flinch. A real flinch.
Josh: "He didn't betray anyone. Don't say that."
The words hit me like a punch.
He's talking about Mom. About the night we chose sides.
About the night I told him to go.
Guilt squeezes my ribs.
Josh raises his voice.
Josh: "I'm not doing this. Not right now. I said I needed a break."
He hangs up.
He stands frozen for a moment, staring at the dark screen like it offended him. Then he exhales sharply and tosses the phone onto the couch.
Josh: "Great. I love emotional chaos before dinner. Really wets the appetite."
Alice gives him a sympathetic smile.
He ignores it.
I speak quietly. "Maybe you should go home."
Josh laughs, sharp and humorless.
"Why? So we can scream at each other in person? Sounds super healthy."
I shake my head.
"Josh... you'll regret not showing up. Whatever's happening, you still care. She still cares. And you'll regret it if you don't go back."
He stares at me like I'm trying to trick him with sincerity. "You sound like some tragic monk giving life lessons."
"Because I've lived enough regret for both of us."
His eyes flick away. His jaw tightens.
He grabs his keys a little too hard.
"Fine. I'll go. But if I get murdered by Dad Number Two, my ghost is haunting you first."
Alice salutes him with a spoon. "Noted."
He hesitates at the door. Not long. Just enough for me to notice the flicker of brother again.
Josh: "Call me if Samuel tries sacrificing you to his rich people cult."
I give a tired half-smile.
"Drive safe."
He rolls his eyes but nods.
The door clicks shut behind him.
The room feels too quiet after that.
Family pain still hanging in the air.
Alice and I sit there, pretending not to worry.