Theodore's thumbs glided over the screen shakily as he typed out a message.
"Hey, Rhea. Whats up? I saw the morrow statement."
After reading it multiple times, he sent the message. He watched the loading circle spin.. and spin.. until!
Message failed to send.
Theodore stared at the message failure screen, frowning. He tapped resend. The little circle spun again…and failed. He sighed, sat up and opened the chat details thinking it was just a bug or bad reception. Except the profile picture was gone. The status line under her name was empty. No "last seen." No "online."
His stomach dropped. What does this mean? He tried switching apps, seeing if it was any different.
"Rhea?" He hit send.
Nothing. No "delivered" checkmark. Just a blank line where there should've been activity. Theodore checked her profile, only to be hit with a;
This user is not available.
He froze. What? Was he.. not it couldn't be. He tried calling not because he thought it would go through, but because he needed to hear something. Even a "this number is no longer in service." But the call didn't ring. It cut off before it even started. Blocked.
Cleanly. Quietly. Like he'd never been there at all.
A strange coldness crawled over his shoulders. He leaned back slowly, phone resting in his hands as the realization sank in. Rhea had blocked him. Or someone made her block him.
And if she hadn't?
Then maybe she wasn't the one holding her phone anymore. The thought made him shudder, just what is going on? He closed his eyes, turning off the phone, his expression filled with unease and concern. Rhea. She was smart, connected—someone he trusted from university. They kept in touch occasionally after he and Damian first got married—not often, but enough for Theodore to know she was still out there, still alive. But as Damian gradually changed, their marriage tumultuous, the last thing on his mind was Rhea and Theodore gradually lost contact with her.
A bad feeling twisted in Theodore's gut. Suddenly, his phone buzzed sharply in his hand. He glanced at the screen—Lucien.
Without thinking, he tapped the notification. It opened to their chat in an instant. He has known Lucien since they were crawling on fours, he's been a great influence to Theodore's decision to divorce Damian. He often confides in Lucien and Lucien knows him the best.
"Theo, have you seen the Morrow statement? It's so frustrating, i'm going to tear that man into shreds!!"
Theodore read his message before typing, his expression troubled, his thumbs gliding over the screen. He decided not to tell Lucien about Rhea after a brief pause and deleted his sentences, it felt inexplicable but something told him not to. After a couple hours of texting Lucien back and forth, he turned his phone off, his eyelids fluttering close. The day passed peacefully, he hoped it would be like this everyday. Especially on the day he would divorce Damian.
As he thought about Damian and the mysterious reason for the "renovation" his head ached and he decided to push the thought out of his mind. Early in the morning, he left for work. The days passed like a blur for him.
___
Damian's POV
Damian exhaled through his nose as he leaned over the table, pen tapping rhythmically against a blank notepad. The villa was quiet—too quiet for his liking—but that silence had become a familiar companion since his return. There were no endless strings of messages to respond to. Just him, the ticking clock on the wall, and the weight of everything he hadn't yet said or done.
He'd already seen the post. In his past life. He didn't even care, his past self was too ignorant, too... His jaw clenched as he reached for the glass of water by his elbow and took a slow sip. He didn't need to read between the lines of that Vincent Morrows statement. He'd seen it before, years ago now, in another timeline, in another life. The very first sign of the upcoming outbreak. Before cities burned. Before Theodore..
The glass hit the table a little too hard, a small splash of water running down its side. He pushed away from the desk abruptly and stood up. He glanced at the calendar. He had a month before the apocalypse, the days were limited and already, seventeen of them were gone. He put on his boots and walked out of his office, the muted sounds of construction and machinery growing clearer and clearer with each step out of the villa.
Damian stood at the edge of the courtyard, arms crossed, jaw tight. Dust swirled around his boots as workers bustled from one section to another, laying wiring, setting up security nodes, checking water filtration lines. He knew better than to blame them, these were the best hands he could quietly hire without drawing attention. But even with near-military precision, the truth was obvious.
It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough!
He swept his gaze over the north wing. That section was almost done. Reinforced walls, solar grid operational, underground shelter already sealed. But the perimeter sensors were still offline, and the greenhouse hadn't been activated. The bunkers lacked full power integration. Worst of all, the southern watch tower—his key vantage point—was just a pile of concrete blocks and rusted plans.
"Sir," a voice called behind him. Ramirez, the foreman. "The updated forecast says we'll need another fifteen days for the southern wing alone. We're moving as fast as we can without raising red flags."
Damian didn't answer right away. He stared up at the sun, mentally tracking how many hours of daylight he had left—how many of them could be wasted with delay. Finally, he glanced at the foreman and spoke, "Prioritize the shelters. Get the south tower up enough for basic surveillance. Pull anyone not working on essentials."
Ramirez nodded, quickly relaying new orders. Damian turned and walked toward the command room—still unfinished, still a mess of exposed conduits and blank screens. He stepped inside anyway, standing in the heart of his barely-assembled sanctuary.
Damian's boots echoed across the unfinished hallway as he made his way back to the open courtyard. He spotted Ramirez near a cluster of crates, arguing with two engineers over the tangled mess of cabling meant for the outer perimeter sensors. From the look of it, they'd hit another snag. Delays, missing parts, or maybe power draw issues.