31. Creed

CHAPTER 31

CREED

I felt fucking terrible. Days had slipped by since I last saw Avery, each moment a reminder of the mess I'd made. I ran a hand through my unkempt hair, the stubble on my chin prickly against my skin. What the hell had I done?

The weight of regret settled heavily on my chest, suffocating. I had to be honest with myself. I was the one who'd walked away from him. Each passing day was filled with more what-ifs.

I sighed.

Then the phone buzzed on the table, rattling against the empty coffee cup and jolting me from my thoughts. Trent's name flashed on the screen and I swiped it open, a small grin tugging at my lips despite everything.

Trent: Hey man.

I leaned back in my chair, running a hand through my hair again, the tension easing just a little.

Me: Hey. What's up?

Trent: Just checking in. You up for meeting today?

I glanced out the window, watching the people rush by, bundled up against the cold. I could use the distraction, a break from my own thoughts.

Me: Yeah, I'm up for it.

I gave him the location of the coffee shop nearby.

Trent: Sounds like a plan. See you there.

I tossed the phone onto the bed, the screen dimming as I slipped on some clothes. Maybe this was what I needed—a change of scenery, a chance to talk things out, to feel a little less stuck in my own head.

I got to the coffee shop early, settling into a corner booth with a view of the door. The place was warm, the air fragrant with the scent of espresso and freshly baked pastries. It was a welcome change from the cold outside, but my thoughts were anything but comfortable. I kept my hands wrapped around the coffee cup, letting the heat seep into my fingers as I waited for Trent.

The bell above the door jingled, and I looked up to see him stepping inside. He cut a broad figure—tall, muscular, his dark hair just starting to show threads of gray. His stride was uneven, a limp marring the confidence in his gait. He spotted me, his lips curving into a faint smile as he made his way over.

I stood up to greet him, and we clasped hands in a firm grip, the kind that spoke of shared battles and unspoken respect. He lowered himself into the booth with a grunt, stretching out his leg like he was trying to find a comfortable position.

"Still giving you trouble?" I gestured to his knee, raising an eyebrow.

"Every damn day," he muttered, rubbing the scarred joint through his jeans. "Better than the early days, though. You remember those?"

I chuckled, leaning back in my seat. "You were stubborn as hell. Refused the wheelchair after surgery, swore you'd walk out of the hospital on your own two feet."

He smirked, a glimmer of the old fire in his eyes. "And I did, didn't I?"

"Yeah, after you nearly passed out trying. Damn near gave the nurses a heart attack."

We shared a laugh, the kind that only people who'd been through the worst together could.

"Remember that time in Fallujah?" Trent's voice softened. "When we got stuck behind that supply truck, and you nearly lost your mind because you thought we were going to miss the extraction?"

A laugh bubbled up unexpectedly, catching me off guard. "Yeah, you kept telling me to chill out, like getting left behind wasn't a big deal. Meanwhile, you had that busted radio and a pocket knife, acting like we'd just MacGyver our way out if things went south."

Trent's grin widened, a flash of nostalgia lighting up his face. "Hey, you know I had a plan. Just... maybe not the best one."

"And I wasn't about to find out if it would've worked," I shot back, shaking my head. "That extraction point was our lifeline. Last thing I wanted was to be stuck out there with you, a broken radio, and your wild ideas about fashioning a distress signal out of god knows what."

Trent chuckled, a low rumble. "I mean, come on, I would've figured something out. But yeah, we got out of there in one piece. Close call, though."

I nodded, the memory settling like a stone in my chest. Back then, it was life and death, but now it felt like a lifetime ago—something we could laugh about over coffee, even though the stakes had been so high.

I cleared my throat, trying to shift the conversation. "How's the family?"

He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the table. "Mel passed a while back. Cancer. It was quick. Thank God for that, at least." His voice grew rough, each word like a weight.

My chest tightened, a dull ache settling behind my ribs. "I'm so damn sorry, man. I wish I'd known."

He shrugged, but his eyes were distant, focused on a point somewhere beyond the coffee shop walls. "Ava's with my parents today, but... I need to find a babysitter soon. They can't keep up with her forever."

I nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in my throat. "She's lucky to have you, though. And she'll grow up knowing her dad's a fighter."

Trent's lips twitched, but there was no humor in it. "Yeah. Some days I feel like I'm losing that fight, though."

The silence settled between us, heavy with unsaid things. Trent shifted his gaze back to me, his expression softening. "Enough about me. How've you been holding up?"

I rubbed a hand over my face, feeling the stubble rasp against my palm. The words stuck in my throat, but I forced them out anyway. "I'm good."

He cocked his head, a frown etching lines into his face. "I sense a but. What's going on, Creed?"

My heart pounded, each beat a dull thud in my ears. A thousand thoughts rushed through my mind—what if he looked at me differently, what if he pulled away, what if I ruined one of the few good things I had left? I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to breathe, staring down at the coffee cup, watching the steam swirl up in lazy tendrils.

A lump formed in my throat, and my chest tightened, like I was on the edge of a cliff with no guarantee of a safe landing. The words lodged in my mouth, heavy and bitter. But I couldn't keep pretending. I couldn't keep hiding.

"I'm... I'm gay, Trent."

The words hung in the air, like a challenge I couldn't take back. I braced myself, my muscles tensing, waiting for the shift in his expression, the flicker of disgust. But when I finally looked up, all I saw in Trent's face was quiet understanding.

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "I don't care, Creed."

My chest loosened, and I let out a shaky breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "You're... okay with this… with me?"

He snorted, a rough, humorless sound. "I spent enough time in the Marines to know what real bravery looks like. Coming out like this... hell, that's courage, Creed. More than I've ever had."

My hands tightened around the cup. "You're the first person I've told. I didn't think it would be this hard."

Trent's expression softened, like he was seeing right through me. "I get it. Secrets like that... they eat at you. But it doesn't change who you are, Creed. Doesn't change the fact that you've got a good heart."

A laugh escaped me, rough and shaky. "Yeah, well, I don't feel so good lately. There's this guy, Avery. We started off with this... arrangement. A fake relationship, to help him with his family. His mom kept pushing him to settle down with some nice girl, even though he came out to her years ago. So I played the role. Pretended he was mine… but it got... complicated."

"Complicated how?"

I rubbed the back of my neck, struggling to find the right words. "It stopped feeling fake for me. I started falling for him, even though I knew it wasn't real for him. And now... things went to hell, and I don't even know where we stand."

Trent leaned back, crossing his arms. "Sounds like you're in deep, man."

"Yeah. Deep and drowning." I met his gaze. "I don't know what to do, Trent. How do I even begin to fix this?"

He paused, thinking it over. "Look, I'm no relationship guru. Was barely around enough during my marriage to get it right. But if there's one thing I've learned since my wife passed, it's that time is a gift, Creed. You can waste it, or you can use it to say the things that matter. You love him?"

I swallowed hard, the truth settling into my bones. "Yeah. I think I do."

Trent's expression softened, something like understanding in his eyes. "Then don't waste any more time."