Ethan sat on the couch, his body rigid, like he had forgotten how to move. The silence between them stretched, thick and uncomfortable, yet he couldn't bring himself to break it. Sam was there, a presence in the storm, solid and real. He had come at the right time, or maybe the wrong time—Ethan couldn't decide. His mind still swirled with the heaviness of what had almost happened. The gun was only a few steps away, but it might as well have been miles.

Sam shifted beside him, resting his elbows on his knees, and glanced sideways at Ethan. His eyes were filled with something unreadable—maybe concern, maybe pity—but he didn't say anything for a while. It was like he was giving Ethan space to process, to breathe, even though Ethan wasn't sure if he could.

The weight in Ethan's chest tightened, a lump rising in his throat. He wasn't used to people being here, especially not at a time like this. He wasn't used to anyone seeing him like this, broken and on the verge of shattering completely.

For a moment, he wished Sam would just leave. That he could be alone again, with the silence and the gun. But at the same time, something deep inside him—a small, fragile part of him that still wanted to survive—was relieved that Sam hadn't left him.

"I'm not…" Ethan's voice cracked, barely more than a whisper. He swallowed hard, trying to push down the emotion that was threatening to spill out, but it was useless. "I don't know how to do this anymore."

Sam turned his head, his eyes softening as he watched Ethan struggle with the words. He didn't push, didn't demand explanations. Instead, he reached out slowly and put a hand on Ethan's shoulder, a simple gesture, but enough to keep Ethan tethered to the moment. Enough to remind him that he wasn't alone.

"It's okay, man," Sam said quietly. "You don't have to say anything. Just… breathe."

Ethan's breath hitched, a shaky exhale escaping his lips. And then, without warning, the dam broke. Tears welled in his eyes, blurring his vision, and before he could stop himself, they began to fall. He brought his hands to his face, his shoulders shaking as sobs wracked his body, violent and uncontrollable. Years of pain, loneliness, and guilt poured out of him in waves, crashing over him like a tidal force that he had kept buried for too long.

Sam didn't say a word. He didn't try to stop Ethan or tell him to calm down. He just stayed there, his hand still resting on Ethan's shoulder, offering quiet support in the only way he knew how.

"I—" Ethan tried to speak through the sobs, but the words were lost in the torrent of emotion. His chest ached with the intensity of it, his lungs burning from the force of his crying. He hadn't cried like this in years—not since the war, not since everything had fallen apart. But now, he couldn't stop.

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"It's okay," Sam murmured again, his voice steady. "Let it out, Ethan. It's okay."

Ethan didn't know how long he cried—minutes, maybe hours. Time seemed to blur together, lost in the storm of grief that had been building inside him for so long. But eventually, the sobs began to subside, leaving him exhausted and hollow. His face was wet with tears, his body trembling with the aftershocks of the release.

He wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt, sniffing as he tried to pull himself together. He felt raw, exposed in a way that made him uncomfortable. But Sam didn't seem to mind. He just sat there, waiting patiently, not asking for explanations, not judging him.

When Ethan finally found his voice again, it was hoarse and barely above a whisper.

"Why are you here, Sam? Why now?"

Sam hesitated, glancing toward the window where the rain still poured, softening into a steady rhythm. For a moment, Ethan thought he wouldn't answer. But then Sam let out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck as if he wasn't sure how to start.

"There's… something I wanted to tell you," Sam said slowly, his voice unusually hesitant. "I wasn't sure how to bring it up. I didn't want to do it like this, but… you weren't answering your phone, and I got worried."

Ethan frowned, wiping the last of the tears from his face.

"What is it?"

Sam shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with what he was about to say. Ethan had never seen him like this—Sam was always so sure of himself, so composed. But now, he looked like he was struggling to find the right words.

"I'm getting married," Sam finally said, his voice soft but steady. He glanced over at Ethan, gauging his reaction.

Ethan blinked, not sure he had heard him right. The words took a moment to sink in, his mind still foggy from the emotional breakdown he had just experienced. "You… what?"

Sam cleared his throat, shifting again. "My girlfriend… well, she's pregnant. And we're going to get married. I wanted to tell you sooner, but… I didn't know how."

Ethan stared at him, the weight of Sam's words hanging in the air between them. Pregnant. Married. It didn't seem real, like the words didn't fit in the same world where everything was crumbling. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.

"I know it's kind of a shock," Sam said, his voice tinged with nervousness. "Believe me, it was a surprise for me too. But… I want you to be there, Ethan. At the wedding. I mean, if you're up for it."

Ethan just looked at him, his mind spinning. Married. Sam, his closest friend, was starting a new chapter of his life, moving forward, while Ethan felt like he was stuck in place, drowning in his own darkness. The contrast was stark, almost painful.

Sam's eyes searched Ethan's face for a reaction, and when Ethan didn't respond, Sam let out a small laugh, though there was a note of uncertainty in it.

"Yeah, I know. It's crazy, right? I didn't expect any of this. But… I wanted you to know. You're important to me, Ethan. I don't want you to disappear on me."

The words hit Ethan harder than he expected. Important. He hadn't felt important to anyone in a long time. He wasn't sure he believed it, but the fact that Sam had come here, that he had stayed through Ethan's breakdown, said something.

Ethan swallowed hard, still processing everything. "When… when's the wedding?"

"Next month," Sam said. "We're keeping it small. Just a few friends and family. I don't expect you to do anything, man. Just… show up. That's all I'm asking."

Ethan nodded slowly, though he still wasn't sure how he felt about it. The thought of going to a wedding, of being around people, felt overwhelming. But at the same time, there was something comforting in the idea that Sam wanted him there. That maybe, despite everything, he wasn't as alone as he thought.

"I'll… I'll try," Ethan finally said, his voice quiet.

Sam smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing a little.

"That's all I'm asking, man."

They sat in silence for a while longer, the rain still falling softly outside. Ethan's mind was a storm of emotions—grief, confusion, and a flicker of something else he hadn't felt in a long time. Maybe hope.

As the night wore on, they talked about small things—nothing heavy, just enough to keep the conversation flowing. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Ethan didn't feel completely lost in the darkness.