And somehow, Creed kept going with us.
The Christmas assembly was on a Wednesday morning, the kind of thing I would’ve normally attended with Aunt Ruth, slipping into a folding chair at the back of the auditorium with coffee in a travel mug and a polite smile fixed in place.
This time, Creed sat beside me.
Not front row.Not center.Just...there.
Morgan stood on the risers in an oversized red sweater, her voice a half-beat behind the others as she sang her heart out anyway.Michelle waved wildly the second she spotted us, nearly missing her cue.
Creed leaned forward instinctively, elbows on his knees, attention locked.
“She’s off-key,” he murmured under his breath.
I smothered a laugh.“So were you in kindergarten grade.”
He glanced at me, surprised I’d said it.Then his mouth curved.Just a little.
Afterward, the girls ran straight for us, breathless and proud, arms flung wide.
“Did you see me?”Michelle demanded.
“I did,” Creed said easily, crouching to her level.“You were the loudest.”
Morgan puffed up.“That’s because we practiced.”
He nodded solemnly.“Clearly.”
No hesitation.No awkwardness.
Just presence.
That night, we wrapped presents at the dining table—construction paper snowflakes taped to the windows, cocoa growing cold beside us.The girls argued over tags and tape.Creed sat across from me, sleeves rolled, folding paper with surprising precision.
“You’re good at that,” I said.
“I had to be,” he replied.“My mother was...particular.”
I didn’t ask more.I didn’t need to.
He let Morgan stick a crooked bow on a box meant for Aunt Ruth without correcting her.Allowed Michelle to use too much tape.Let the chaos exist.
At one point, I caught him watching them—not smiling, not intervening.Just...absorbing.
The school holiday party came next.Cupcakes.Paper crowns.A chaotic sing-along that devolved into giggles halfway through.Creed stood near the back with the other parents, hands in his coat pockets, nodding politely when introduced.
No titles.No IWM.No CEO aura.
Just Creed.
On the drive home, Morgan asked from the backseat, “Are you coming to the cookie swap too?”
Creed glanced at me first.
I waited.Let him choose.
“If that’s okay,” he said carefully.
Michelle clapped.“Yes!”
