--- Issac's Perspective ---
"Communication failure has occurred. We still have visuals, but communication isn't coming through." The director's voice echoed through the hushed room, his words slicing through the air like a knife, plunging into my head. A cold chill ran down my spine, and anxiety gripped my heart, soul, and body. My chest tightened, and I started breathing hard and fast, each breath a struggle as if the air itself had turned to mercury.
"Daddy, what does that mean?" Leo's voice, filled with innocent curiosity, tapped at my leg, pulling me back from the edge of panic.
I looked down at his wide, questioning eyes, and my mind went blank. How could I explain something I didn't understand myself?
"Um, I think that means that the rocket's phone isn't working. Maybe they forgot to charge it." Ethan's voice broke through my confusion, and I glanced at him, blinking hard, trying to figure out what he was saying. He was staring hard at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and understanding.
"OH! Thank you, Uncle Ethan!" Leo and Aurora chimed in unison, their faces lighting up with relief.
I stared back at them, their words swirling around me, but I couldn't seem to process them.
Ryan smiled and knelt down to my kids. "I'm sure they will fix everything soon," he said, his voice filled with a confidence I wished I could share.
I watched as he skillfully redirected their attention, pointing to the clock on the wall. "Look at the clock, what time is it?"
The kids' attention snapped to the wall clock, and they competed to count the time, their voices filled with excitement. "835!" Aurora won the race, her face glowing with triumph.
"That means it's time for you two munchkins to be in bed," Ryan said, turning to me with concern in his eyes. "Isaac, if you don't mind, I really think we should sleep over for a few days."
I looked at him, his words slowly sinking in, and I realized that he was right. I needed them here. I needed their support because I wasn't good enough for my kids right now.
I nodded, my voice catching in my throat. "Yes, please stay," I managed to say in a whisper. "I don't think I can do this alone."
Ryan's hand rested on my shoulder, a solid, reassuring weight. "You don't have to," he said, his voice filled with understanding. "We're here for you. We're family." he looked down at Ethan as he said that.
I'm not sure how we ended up in the car. Everything seemed to blur together, a jumble of images and sounds that I couldn't quite piece together. My mind was a whirlwind of fear and anxiety, every thought consumed by my wife, who was now out of reach.
Leo and Aurora wore out at some point during the walk, their little legs unable to keep up with the pace. Ryan and Ethan picked them up as they chatted and laughed, trying to keep the mood light. But their voices sounded distant to me, their words lost in the fog of my thoughts.
As bad as us living in different cities for her and my jobs had been, we were always a phone call away. We had video calls where I could see her beautiful face, hear her laughter, and feel her presence even though she was miles away.
The car ride home was a haze.
I'm not sure how we got home. The next thing I knew, we were pulling into the driveway, the familiar house a mockery to the chaos in my mind. Ethan and Ryan took the kids to their rooms, tucking them in with gentle words and reassuring smiles.
I found myself on the couch, my body going through the motions while my mind was elsewhere. I stared at my phone, my fingers constantly refreshing the notifications, hoping for a miracle, praying for a sign that everything was okay.
