Shit. You always think there’s plenty of time, plenty of chances. Staring down at 20% survival odds has made me rethink a lot of things. I wish I had come out of the closet instead of letting him leave, wish I’d been more willing to rock the boat before it started to sink. Maybe he meant it when he said he’d still be there for me, still be my friend.This story was written as a part of the Goodreads.com M/M Romance Group's 'Love is Always Write' event.