Oddly enough, it didn’t feel the same. At Leanne’s invitation, he’d moved into the main bedroom, and they’d set up his game console in the guest room, configuring it as a place where he could hang out if he wanted to game while she watched something in the living room. It was incredibly sweet, an accommodation she didn’t need to make when he contributed so little.

Or at least that was how he felt when she went off to work. He started getting up when she did to make her breakfast and pack her a lunch. Hell, if his dad got wind of this, he’d be calling Trev a pretty little wife. Gender roles were bullshit, but both Dad and Tanner went all in on them, and his mom never contradicted them. Now that he had some distance from his family, he entertained the idea that maybe he wasn’t the problem.

They’re toxic.

The condo was so quiet. He studied his phone, scrolling through the gallery of wedding photos. Seven pictures, proving he’d really flown off to Vegas and gotten married without saying a word to anyone. That’s one way to get out of a rut. Gathering his courage, he chose the best photo and sent it to Titus with the caption: Guess what I did last weekend?

It didn’t take long before his phone rang. At this hour, Titus was normally up to his elbows in baked goods, and the fact that he was actually calling? Yeah, the dude must be intervention-level worried.

“What did you do?” Titus demanded, as soon as Trev picked up.

“It’s not a costume party, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Did you seriously get married without me? What the hell, I thought we were friends.”

He blinked a bit over that. In all honesty, he expected to hear how foolish and impulsive he was, but it sounded like…Titus was hurt? “We are.”

“But you didn’t tell me, didn’t ask me to be your best man, or even invite me to watch a livestream of the occasion. You always know what’s going on with me. I told you everything about me and Danica, about my dad, and…fuck. You’re my first call whenever I need a friend, but I guess you don’t feel the same way.”

Oh shit.

“I’m sorry,” Trev got out. “Truly. I guess I thought I was more…convenient than anything else. I didn’t know that I…”

“Really matter to me? Of course you do. I mean, I won’t lie, it is convenient that you’re always willing to help, but you’re a hell of a lot more than my odd-jobs guy. You’re my best friend. I thought you knew that.”

He didn’t know how he was supposed to feel, but simultaneously pleased and chastened about covered it. “Apparently not?”