James returned to the couch with two glasses of wine, offering one to Bill, who took it with a tired smile.
“I figured you needed something stronger than water,” James said gently.
Bill nodded. “Thanks.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, the kind that felt less awkward than expected. Bill sipped slowly, his mind still stuck in the stairwell the way Emma’s voice cracked, the finality in the sound of the door.
“I keep thinking I’ll wake up and fix it,” Bill murmured. “But it’s already done, isn’t it?”
James looked at him, quiet for a beat before answering. “Sometimes the end’s been coming for a while. We just don’t see it until we’re standing in the rubble.”
Bill gave a faint smile at that. “You always talk like you’ve been through it all.”
James shrugged. “Maybe I have. Or maybe
