30. Avery

CHAPTER 30

AVERY

The weight of the past four days pressed down on me, thick as the winter air outside. I hadn't bothered turning on the lights in the penthouse, letting the gray afternoon seep through the floor-to-ceiling windows, washing the space in cold, muted light. The place felt sterile, like a showroom, the kind of luxury that echoed emptiness instead of comfort. I wandered through the rooms, trying to distract myself—organizing a bookshelf, rearranging a drawer—anything to avoid the gnawing sense of loss that threatened to swallow me whole.

The echo of my family's accusations haunted me. Creed—a man I had let into my heart—painted as a villain by the very people who were supposed to know me best. Should I have gone with him? Cut the toxic ties and believed in the man who made me feel alive? Or was Creed just another smooth talker, weaving a web of lies? The thought gnawed at my insides like a ravenous beast.

A familiar rattle at the door shattered my spiraling thoughts. Becca. I had ignored her calls for days, but I knew she wouldn't let this go. The door swung open, and she stepped in, her presence brightening the dim room.

"Seriously, Avery?" Her hands landed on her hips, radiating an energy I didn't have. "You've been a self-indulgent ass long enough. Moping around here isn't going to fix anything."

I shrugged, trying to deflect her energy. "What should I have done, Becca? Believed Carl and Mother, or trusted Creed?"

She crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. Even as kids, she could see through my defenses, peel back the layers until the truth lay bare. "Even if Carl is right, there's probably more to the story. You think shutting everyone out helps anyone? You trying to die of misery in here?"

I sat on the couch, and motioned for my sister to take a seat beside me. "What do you want me to do? Go back and defend Creed like I'm some knight in shining armor?"

Her shoulders sagged as she let out a long breath. "Avery, you need to talk about how you felt when you were with Creed. Not just the lies, but how he made you feel."

I closed my eyes, the memory of Creed's laughter drifting through my mind like a warm breeze. "It was all a ruse," I murmured, bitterness coating my words. "I asked Creed to pretend to be my boyfriend for Thanksgiving just to get Mom off my back. I was tired of her meddling in my life, trying to set me up with this woman and that because she couldn't accept that I'm gay."

Becca watched me, her brow furrowing. "And after Thanksgiving?"

"After Thanksgiving, it stopped being fake," I admitted, my voice thickening. "I fell for him, Becca. Hard. And I believed he felt the same… or at least was starting to feel the same." My throat tightened as I struggled to find the right words.

"Seems like your mind knows what you should do," she said, tilting her head. "but you're just not listening to it."

My sister's words were heavy with truth. I stared at the floor, tracing the patterns in the polished wood, my heart racing as I tried to wrap my mind around what she was saying. It felt like the pieces of a puzzle shifting into place, each one revealing a clearer picture of what I'd been too afraid to confront.

Creed's laughter echoed in my mind, a melody I had come to crave. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about his dreams, how he made me feel seen and understood, flooded my thoughts. I had buried those feelings under layers of doubt, convinced that what we had was just an act, a facade to fool my mother. But Becca's words pried open the lid on a truth I'd been holding back.

Could it be that my heart had been telling me something different all along? The idea crept in, tentative but undeniable. Then realization hit me in waves—first gentle and then crashing like a tide, shocking in its clarity.

I love Creed.

I fucking love him.

Yes, we'd only known each other for a short time, and I couldn't claim to know every detail about him. But wasn't that what love was? It was a journey of discovery, a leap into the unknown. Couples might spend fifty, sixty, seventy years together and still find themselves strangers. I wanted to take that leap with Creed, to explore the depths of our connection and see where it would lead us, no matter the risks.

With each heartbeat, I understood the depth of my feelings for him. I hadn't given Creed the chance he deserved, and it was time to rectify that.

"I need to tell him," I finally said, my voice trembling with urgency. "I don't believe he's the monster they painted him to be. I love him, Becca!"

"Now get moving. You don't want to let him think you've given up on him."

I nodded, a spark of hope igniting within me. I grabbed my coat, a new resolve coursing through me as I headed for the door.