As the evening settled into a heavy silence, Will sat at the kitchen table, his hands wrapped around a mug of tea that had long since gone cold. Stacy sat across from him, her expression weary but calm. For a while, neither spoke, the weight of their situation pressing down on them like a lead blanket.
Finally, Will broke the silence, his voice low and unsteady. “What do we do if they don’t find it, Stacy? What happens to me… to my life?”
Stacy met his gaze, her own worry evident. “We don’t need to think about that yet. The divers still have another day. They could find it.”
“But what if they don’t?” Will pressed, his voice cracking slightly. “What if this is it for me? Stacy, I’m not me anymore. No one would accept this—accept me—as Will. Not my family, not the government, not my work. To everyone else, Will Reynolds would just… disappear.”
Stacy’s brow furrowed as she leaned forward, clasping her hands together. “You’re right,” she admitted softly. “And it scares me too. I don’t know how we’d explain this to anyone. How we’d rebuild.”
Will let out a shaky breath, his eyes misting over. “The only thing I can think of—the only thing that makes any sense—is… filing a missing person’s report. Starting the process to declare Will dead.”
Stacy’s eyes widened in shock. “Will…”
“I hate even saying it,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “But if I can’t go back… if I’m stuck like this… how else do we move forward? There’s no record of me as this version of Stacy. It would be like starting over completely.”
His hands trembled as he wiped at his eyes, trying to keep his composure. “But just saying it… it’s like I’m erasing myself. Like I’m giving up. And I can’t… I can’t do that.”
Stacy stood and moved around the table, kneeling beside him and taking his hands in hers. “Will, listen to me. You’re not giving up. You’re trying to find a way to survive. But we’re not there yet. We still have hope. The divers could still find the medallion. We have to believe in that.”
Will looked down at her, tears finally spilling over. “But what if they don’t, Stacy? What if they don’t?”
“Then we figure it out,” she said firmly, though her voice wavered. “But until we know for sure, you can’t lose hope.”
He let out a soft sob, and Stacy pulled him into a tight embrace, holding him as he cried. “I’m so scared,” he admitted, his voice muffled against her shoulder.
“I know,” Stacy whispered, stroking his hair. “I am too. But you’re still here, Will. No matter what happens, you’re still you to me. And we’ll get through this, one way or another.”
They stayed like that for a while, drawing strength from each other as they faced the uncertainty ahead. Though the fear and doubt lingered, Stacy’s words gave Will a small anchor to hold onto. For now, all they could do was hope—and wait.
