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CREED

P ain…Not just the kind that makes you grit your teeth, but the kind that digs into your bones, the kind that doesn’t just sit in your body but settles in your soul. That’s what this felt like. A week ago, I lost my grandfather. And tonight, I lost my season. Maybe even my next one too.

Lying in this hospital bed, ice wrapped around my knee, the sounds of the stadium ringing in my ears like a distant memory, I felt like my world was caving in on itself.

It happened so fucking fast—one wrong pivot, one bad landing, and pop.

I knew before I even hit the floor. I knew before the trainers rushed out, before Coach rushed out, before the whistle blew, before the announcer said my name with the kind of hesitance that made my stomach drop.

I felt it deep in my gut—my season was over.

And to make it worse? It had to be against the Suns. My former team. The one that traded me, sent me packing to LA like I was just another name on a roster. And now? They got to watch me break under their lights.

The ride back to the locker room was a blur. The MRI was a blur. The pain meds were a blur. But the sinking feeling in my chest? Crystal clear.

The first week was the worst. I wasn’t just benched I was helpless. I couldn’t train. I couldn’t play. I Couldn’t even walk without fucking crutches. I hated depending on people. Hated feeling weak.

I spent hours staring at the ceiling in my bedroom, replaying the injury in my mind over and over. What if I had landed differently? What if I had sat out that game? What if I never get back to the way I was before?

I knew how this league worked. You were only as good as your last game, and right now? I was nothing but a broken player taking up cap space. I ignored calls. I avoided teammates. I barely ate. If it weren’t for the kids, I probably wouldn’t have left my room.

Cree was too young to understand why Daddy couldn’t pick her up like usual, but she tried to make it better. Every morning, she’d crawl into my lap, all soft curls and big brown eyes, and pat my face like she could fix everything just by being there.

And Gio? He was my shadow. The second he saw me struggling with my crutches, he was at my side, gripping my arm like he could carry me himself if I needed him to.

"Daddy you’re hurt?" Cree would ask, pressing her little hands against my leg.

"Yeah, baby. But Daddy’s okay," I lied.

I wasn’t okay. Not even a little bit. And Serenity knew it. She refused to let me sink. She didn’t baby me, didn’t let me wallow, but she also didn’t let me drown.

The day after I was discharged, she showed up at my house with suitcases and the kids in tow. I hadn’t asked her to come. Hadn’t even mentioned it. She just did it. Just like she just picked up and came to me when I needed her after Pops died. And I hated how good it felt to have her there.

"You need help, and I’m not about to let you sit in this big ass house alone, Creed," she said, arms crossed, standing in my doorway like she dared me to argue with her.

I should’ve told her no. I should’ve told her I was fine.

But instead, I just exhaled and nodded. Because she was right.

She always was. It didn’t mean we were suddenly okay.

Didn’t mean we were back together, or even heading in that direction.

But it meant she cared. And that was more than I deserved.

Even when I was being a pain in the ass, she was patient. Even when I snapped at her, she didn’t leave. And when she forced me to go on the Vegas trip for Ari and Brodie’s bachelor and bachelorette party? I wanted to fight her on it, but deep down, I was grateful.

“Come on, we’re going,” Serenity said going into my closet and grabbing one of my suitcases.

“I ain’t even feeling it SB.” I said honestly watching her as she moved. “You go ahead, and I’mma stay with the kids.”

“Nope.” She replied putting random shit in my suitcase. “Your mama is already on her way to stay with the kids. My daddy and Sevyn have agreed to help her when they can. We’re going.”

“SB—”

“We’re going Langston, and that’s final. We need this, as parents, with all the shit we both have going on; we both need to get away for a few days.”

Again, I didn’t argue. Instead, I slowly made my way into my closet picking out shit for her to put in my suitcase. Normally, I would have had my assistant pack for me, but Serenity seemed determined to do it. So, I let her.

By nighttime, my mama was settled in the bedroom she normally stayed in at my house and the next morning, we were with our friends, boarding the private jet to Vegas.

"You don’t need to babysit me, Serenity," I muttered as we walked through the massive penthouse suite on one of the top floors of the MGM Grand a few hours later. Our entire party had taken up quite a few rooms on these levels.

"Who said I was babysitting?" she shot back, arching a brow as she set her bag down in the master bedroom. "I just don’t trust you not to sulk in your hotel room all weekend. So, I’m keeping an eye on you. Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t have wanted two suites on your credit card.

Us staying together saves you money. Gotta spend some of that $130 mil. ”

“Serenity, you’re literally worth more than me. Why is this on my credit card?”

“Because you’re the man and I , your child. Duh.”

I huffed, rubbing a hand down my face. This was a bad idea.

Sharing a suite with her? Sleeping under the same roof, this close to her?

It was dangerous. Because no matter how many times she rejected me, no matter how many times she told me she just wanted to co-parent, I knew the truth.

I could see it. Feel it. She still loved me.

And now, I just had to figure out how to make her admit it.

That night, after everyone else had gone to the casino, Serenity and I sat on the private balcony of our suite, a bottle of wine between us, the Vegas skyline glittering in the distance.

"Why’d you really come to Vegas, with everything we got going on?" I asked, my voice quieter than usual.

She sipped her drink, staring out at the city. "it’s just what I told you back home. It’s because I needed a break. Because you needed a break. And because I knew if I didn’t force you out of that damn house, you’d drive yourself insane."

I exhaled, gripping the railing. "I hate this, SB."

"I know."

"You don’t understand. Basketball isn’t just what I do. It’s who I am."

She turned to face me, her gaze softer now. "That’s not true. You’re so much more than that, Creed."

I wanted to believe her. But I didn’t know how. I sighed. "I need to get back on the court."

"You will," she said firmly. "Keep going with PT and stop giving them folks a hard time.” She gave me a pointed look. “But in the meantime, you need to live. Enjoy this weekend. Take a break from the pressure, from the doubt, from all of it."

I studied her, really looked at her. Serenity Bradshaw—the only person who ever truly understood me.

And as much as she tried to pretend we were just friends, just co-parents, I knew better.

Because the way she looked at me? That wasn’t just history.

That was unfinished business. And I was ready to resolve it.