I read it a few times, each word sinking in deeper.My throat tightens, but not in the way it usually does when I see my name in an article.This time, it’s different.There’s no judgment, no twisted angle, just the truth.
She calls me a hero.
I’m not.I was just doing my job.But it hits me hard that she sees me that way, that she’s willing to fight for me when only a few people have.And fuck, when I haven’t even fought for myself.
I rub the back of my neck.It’s been a long time since someone believed in me like this.Since someone looked past the noise and saw me for who I really am.
Keith just pulled into the driveway.I want to call Amelia, but this conversation needs more than a rushed few minutes before Keith barges in asking about dinner plans.This deserves a private conversation.
I pull out my phone and send her a quick text.
Me:I read the article.Thank you.
I hesitate, my thumb hovering over the keyboard before I add another message.
Me:Really.It means a lot.
No over-explaining.No overthinking.Just the truth.
I grab my keys and head out.
Tonight, I’ll let myself breathe.I’ll go out, have a drink, and for once, not overthink every damn thing.
Just for a little while.
The tavern is a mix of laughter, clinking glasses, and sports commentary spilling out onto the sidewalk.It reminds me of the time I came here with Amelia.
I roll my shoulders, adjusting my checkered shirt, the fabric sticking slightly to my back.My palms are damp, so I wipe them against my jeans, scanning the room as I step inside.
I don’t know what his friends look like, so I focus on finding one person: Derek.Lucky for me, he stands out with his height and the ink winding down his arms and up his neck.He catches sight of me first, lifting a hand and waving me over.Relief loosens some of the tension in my chest.
I make my way through the crowd, avoiding a waitress carrying a tray of beers.Derek stands as I reach the table, shaking my hand and giving me a firm slap on the back.“Hey, guys, this is Adrian, the guy I was telling you about.”
The others stand, each one offering a handshake, their smiles open and genuine.“Hey, man, welcome.”
“These are my buddies, Elliot, Levi, and Noah,” Derek says, nodding toward them in turn.“You’ll see them around town.”
I take in the group, who look like they belong here, relaxed and comfortable, like they’ve been friends for years.
Elliot, the one closest to me, taps his fingers lightly on the table, deep in thought.He looks like someone who deals with numbers all day.Probably an accountant or something in finance.Levi, with his calloused hands and easy-going grin, gives off more of a hands-on, blue-collar vibe.Maybe a mechanic or carpenter.Noah has a steady, observant gaze.Something about him screams first responder.Firefighter, maybe.
“Good to meet you, man,” Elliot says, tipping his beer toward me.
I nod, grabbing a seat.“Likewise.”
“Derek’s mentioned you,” Levi adds.“Figured we’d run into you eventually.”
It’s a strange feeling, stepping into a group that already has years of history.But as the conversation flows, I realize something.I don’t have to prove anything to them.They just accept me as I am.They’re not asking anything of me, just wanting me to be a part of their group.
“Drinks?”I ask after a while.
“We were waiting on you,” Elliot says.
“Yeah?Then the next round’s on me,” I say.
“Like him already,” Levi says, grinning.
I wave them off and make my way to the bar.The bartender leans in, her eyes heavy with the weight of long hours, and she offers a tired smile.“What can I get you?”
