I kept my hand on the back of his neck as I sat down next to him in the empty chair. “Hi,” he murmured. I forced a smile, even though I wasn’t exactly comfortable being there. “Hey. Can I get you anything?” Trent shook his head, then laid his cheek against Simon’s hand. I didn’t look at Simon and didn’t really want to either. I wasn’t comfortable around death, no matter who it was, and to add to that the person lying in front of us was someone Trent obviously still cared about. I know what he’d said. I’d heard him tell me he didn’t still love Simon, but looking at his face and the tears in his eyes, I knew he either hadn’t been completely honest with me, or maybe just not with himself. And I couldn’t bring myself to be mad at him for it at all. People thought they fell in love all the time. Hell, I’d thought I was in love with Paul. I might even have been. But I knew I’d never been in love with someone like Trent had probably loved Simon. I was jealous, and hurt, which made me feel like an asshole because regardless of anything else, including how much I wanted him, Trent was my friend, and right then he was hurting more than I knew I ever had.
