Chapter 2
The Morning After
Colin woke to sunlight streaming through the bedroom window and the smell of coffee drifting up from downstairs. For a moment—just a moment—everything felt normal. Saturday morning. Joshua already up. The promise of a lazy weekend stretching ahead.
Then he remembered.
We’re coming. He’d made that promise in the dark, lying beside his husband, his chest still tight with memories of Kathy’s door. And now, in the bright clarity of morning, the weight of it settled over him—stealing his breath—his mind already whirling.
Two weeks on the road. Five or six towns. Kids who might be standing on the edge, waiting for someone to notice.
What happens when we roll into a town that doesn’t want us there—when this is nothing but hope, and we’re not ready for what we find?
Colin stared at the ceiling, his heart beating a little too fast.
“You’re spiraling,” he muttered to himself. “Stop.”
He threw back the covers and headed downstairs.
Joshua was at the kitchen table, laptop open, coffee mug steaming beside him. He looked up when Colin appeared, and his expression shifted immediately—concern mixed with something careful, like he was trying to gauge which version of Colin had awakened that morning.
“Morning, my love.”
“Morning.” Colin crossed to the coffee pot, poured himself a mug, then stood at the counter, staring out the window toward the cherry trees in their back yard.
Joshua waited.
Colin took a sip, then another. Finally, he turned around. “I didn’t change my mind,” he said. “If that’s what you’re wondering.”
“I wasn’t wondering that.”
“Well, you’re definitely wondering something.”
Joshua’s mouth quirked. “I was wondering how you slept.”
“Not bad.” Colin moved to the table and sat down, close enough that their knees touched.
“Liar.”
Colin huffed a small laugh. “OK. Three or four hours, maybe. But I’m fine.”
Joshua reached over and took his hand. “You’re not fine. And what’s more, you don’t have to be fine, Colin. Not yet. You just agreed to something that will ask a lot of you emotionally. It’s OK if that’s—”
“I know what I agreed to,” Colin interrupted.
He squeezed Joshua’s fingers. “And I know why I agreed to it. I just…” He stared down at their joined hands.
“OK. Two things are bouncing around in my brain. First, I keep thinking about what happens when we leave. When we roll out of Farmville or wherever, and those kids are still there. Still dealing with the same parents, the same schools, the same shit that made them need us in the first place.”
He blew out a long breath and laced their fingers together tight, then leaned closer to his husband.
When he spoke again, his voice was low. “Second, why now, Josh? Jesus, Kathy’s been gone for over twenty years.
I’ve worked with kids in one way or another for almost that entire time.
Students at UVA, when I was a campus cop, kids who were linked to my cases as a prosecutor.
And hell, the kids at camp last summer. Why are the emotions so intense now? ”
Joshua was quiet for a long moment, his thumb tracing circles on Colin’s hand. When he spoke, his voice was gentle but direct—therapist mode, but softer. “Because this time you’re choosing it,” he said. “You’re walking toward it with your eyes open.”
Colin’s brows furrowed. “I chose to work with students. I chose to be at camp—”
Joshua leaned closer. “Those are all ways of creating distance from the thing you’re most afraid of. You get to be the lawyer, the cop—the responsible adult who keeps things running smoothly. You get to stay in control.”
Colin opened his mouth, then closed it.
“This tour?” Joshua continued. “There’s no distance. No control. Just you, sitting across from a kid who might be where Kathy was, listening to them, knowing you can’t fix it.” He paused, then added quietly, “And you already know what that feels like now. Because of Alex.”
Colin’s face went very still.
“He’s fourteen, Colin. The same age you were when you lost Kathy.
And he’s not just some kid you supervised at camp for a week—he’s in our lives.
He calls you when he’s struggling. He shows up at our door.
He eats at our table and falls asleep in our bed watching TV with us.
You care about him.” Joshua’s voice softened.
“Jesus,” Colin whispered, his voice breaking slightly.
“Listen to me,” Joshua said firmly. “Alex is thriving. He has wonderful foster parents in Sharon and Paul. He has us. He has Ryan, who is a fantastic therapist. He has support, safety, and people who love him. He’s proof that showing up for these kids matters.
But he’s also a reminder that you can’t control everything.
That even when you do everything right, there are no guarantees. ”
Colin pulled his hand back and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. “Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“So, what you’re saying is I’ve spent twenty-three years carefully building walls between myself and vulnerable kids, and then Alex walked into our lives and knocked them all down, and now I’ve agreed to spend two weeks sitting with kids who might be exactly where he was a year ago, and I’m fucking terrified? ”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, though I think you’ve always known what’s at stake.
” Joshua reached for him again. “But I’m also saying you’re still here.
You’re asking the hard questions. You’re not running from them.
And you’re choosing to do this in spite of whatever tough feelings it creates within you.
” He waited until Colin met his eyes. “And that’s not nothing, my love. That’s real courage.”
He drew in a shaky breath, then lifted Colin’s hand and pressed his lips against the hard surface of his knuckles. Colin saw tears fall from Joshua’s eyes. “Hey,” he soothed. “Baby, I’m OK. Don’t let my mini melodrama upset you.”
“Don’t minimize it,” Joshua whispered. He leaned closer and ran his other hand up the length of Colin’s arm.
“You care, my darling love. It’s your greatest strength and your greatest vulnerability.
” He stood and pressed his lips against Colin’s cheek, then whispered.
“Love is your kryptonite, my beloved Superman!”
Colin leaned back, frowning. “Oh, well, that just fucking sucks!”
Joshua laughed and kissed his cheek again.
“Wouldn’t change it if I could. And neither would you.
” He poured more coffee for both of them, then sat down again and recaptured Colin’s hand.
“Don’t be grumpy. I promise you, we will be so prepared for this outreach tour that every kid we see will be better off because we were there.
” He paused, staring down at their joined hands, then met Colin’s eyes.
“And this, too, my darling boy. Whatever happens, we’re going to play the hand we’re dealt, just like Danny told you.
We’re not going to try to play god, or see ourselves as god.
We’ll give our best. And when we leave, we’re going to let it rest in the hands of whatever higher power—if any—runs this show and move the fuck on to the next stop and the next kid, and the next challenge. Period.”
Colin leaned forward over the table and kissed him. For a moment, he stared into Joshua’s eyes, then kissed him again. “First off, I love you. Second, I am about as far removed from Superman as it’s possible to get. And third… kryptonite? ME? NEVAH!”
Joshua snickered, then reached to caress Colin’s cheek. “OK, Clark Kent, what’s first on our agenda?”
“If I had a kryptonite, it would be you,” Colin accused.
He fell back onto his chair, and for a moment, he stared at the table as if gathering his thoughts.
“First? I should probably get into that policy language David wants me to check out before he starts sending passive-aggressive reminders. And then…” He paused.
“Well, maybe start thinking about first steps.”
Joshua peered at Colin, his expression still etched with concern. “You sure you want to tackle it today?”
“Why not today?” Colin shrugged. “The longer we wait, the more time I have to throw myself into an emotional volcano. Better to just… start.”
Joshua studied him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “OK, then.” He waved him toward the study. “Go do that Davy stuff so you don’t have the professor sending you grumpy emails. Then we’ll deal with our stuff.” He gave Colin a quiet smile. “I may have a surprise for you, my darling love.”
Colin polished off half his coffee in one long swallow, then stood, an eyebrow cocked. “Surprise, huh? Give me an hour, maybe ninety minutes. Then we can start on our lists and figure out what the hell to say to Kyle.”
“Colin—”
He turned back.
Joshua was still sitting at the table, looking up at him with something that was one-third pride and two-thirds openhearted adoration. “I love you.”
Colin felt his throat tighten. “Love you too, bud.”
He headed for the study, coffee mug in hand, and closed the door behind him.
An hour and forty-five minutes later, Colin emerged, bleary-eyed and caffeinated beyond reason. He found Joshua in the living room, curled up in the armchair with his own laptop and a legal pad covered in notes.
“How’d it go?” Joshua asked, looking up.
“David’s policy language is solid, but he buried the nondiscrimination protections in subsection C, where nobody’s going to see them.
I moved them to the front, tightened the language, and added a reporting mechanism.
” Colin dropped onto the couch. “Also told him he needs to stop writing like he’s afraid the lawyers are going to eat him alive. ”
Joshua grinned. “Did you actually say that?”
“Word for word.” Colin rubbed his face. “Though I suppose when your family’s been endowing university chairs since the 1800s, you can afford to be cautious.” He leaned closer to Joshua. “What’ve you been working on?”