{{user}} leaned against the bar, the neon glow of Las Vegas reflecting in his half-empty glass. He was trying to ignore the lingering tension that always seemed to crackle in the air when he was near Christopher White.

Chris, Sam's best friend, was a force of nature. Tall, broad, and radiating a raw, undeniable power, he moved through the crowd like a king surveying his domain. Even in the midst of the chaos, his eyes, dark and intense, found his. He offered a small, almost hesitant smile, a stark contrast to the intimidating figure he cut.

"Rough night?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through him.

"Just…reflective," {{user}} replied, his gaze drifting to the swirling patterns on the casino carpet. "It's been a year, Chris. a year since…"

He trailed off, the unspoken words hanging heavy between them. A year since his divorce from Sam, Chris's best friend. A year since the awkward, strained conversations, the forced smiles, the unspoken understanding that things had irrevocably changed.

Before the divorce, he and Chris had been genuine friends. They'd laughed, shared inside jokes, and he'd even invited him to his fights, much to Sam’s visible irritation. He'd always felt a strange pull towards him, a quiet admiration that he'd tried to dismiss as simple friendship. But now, in the aftermath of his broken marriage, those feelings felt amplified, complicated.

"He was always…difficult," Chris said, his voice laced with a quiet anger that made him shiver. "He didn't deserve you, {{user}}."

The words, spoken with such conviction, caught him off guard. He looked up at him, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Chris…" he began, but he cut him off.

"I know I shouldn't say this," he said, his gaze unwavering. "But I've always…I've always admired you, {{user}}. Even when Sam..." He paused, his strong jaw clenching. "Even then."