“It was the least I could do. You know I was meaning to call you.”
Fredric hummed through his first bite, then swiped a napkin across his mouth as he swallowed. “Lonely?”
“Actually, yes,” Ilan said, and the sheer, brutal honesty in his voice made Fredric’s heart twist. “But I was going to call because Julian’s losing his fucking mind. He said you moved, and you weren’t returning his calls, and he’s all upset that you won’t come for the holidays.”
Fredric sighed, and he felt some measure of guilt, because he had been doing it on purpose. He used the time difference as an excuse, but the reality was, he wanted to feel like he was something of himself again before he saw Julian and Archer. He wanted to set foot in their cute little flat and be able to hold his head high and prove that he was fine on his own.
He knew Julian would love him and respect him even if he wasn’t, but he wanted to do this for himself. And he wasn’t ready. And he knew he wouldn’t be, not by Christmas.
“I know you’re avoiding him,” Ilan said when Fredric had no answer. “And he knows you’re fine, but he hasn’t ever been this far from you before. You’ve got to take pity on him.”
Fredric chuckled as he polished off the first taco, then sat back with a sigh. “I’ll send him a text, at least.”
“Oh my god, listen to you. Send him a text.” Ilan kicked him under the table. “What the hell has gotten into you.”
Fredric grinned widely. “I’m also on an app.”
“…a what now?”
“This dating app. My sweet little neighbor and her boyfriend set me up. You post a profile, and you send messages and…”
“I know what a fucking dating app is,” Ilan snapped. “Jesus, are they trying to get you date raped? Give me your phone.”
“Excuse me, Dad,” Fredric snapped, and he heard Ilan recoil. “I do, in fact, know what I’m doing.”
“I…fuck,” Ilan breathed. “I’m sorry, god. It’s just, there are some really shitty people on these things.”
Fredric shook his head. “Tonight was proof of that.”
“Yes, but worse, okay? Worse than some asshole making dick sucking pantomimes at a stranger across the restaurant.”
Fredric nearly choked on his beer, wiping his mouth before he could speak again. “Is that what he was doing?”
“Well…no. But it was just as bad. And I know you can do this, but Fredric…”
“Don’t,” he warned.
“This isn’t about you being blind, or even old, okay? This is about how the world is garbage, and you just got out of an abusive marriage.”
Fredric stilled. “What does that have to do with anything?”
Ilan was quiet for a very long moment—long enough that Fredric started to fear he was about to get very, very angry. “I don’t pretend to know what dating is like. You and I both know that I was…not made for love.”
“Ilan,” Fredric whispered, but he felt a soft touch on the back of his hand, and he stopped.
“Since I was a kid, I watched her strip you down and make you unsure if you were even capable of living without her, let alone existing as a person who deserved to be loved. And I admire the hell out of you for getting there on your own. I wish…” He heard Ilan swallow thickly. “I wish I could be half the man you are. But anyone you date after this is going to seem like a god, Fredric. Because she set the bar so fucking low, it was six feet beneath the earth.”
“You think I won’t see it,” Fredric rasped, and Ilan’s hand tightened on his.
“You’ll see it, but it won’t seem so bad. Not compared to her. And you deserve the world. You deserve someone to lasso the moon and pull down the stars so you can run your hands over them and have more than just rain drops on a tin roof. You deserve someone who isn’t just willing, but wants to drop to their knees and make sure you know that every day with you is precious.”
Fredric’s throat was tight, and he didn’t trust himself to speak, because he wanted love—to be loved, to give it—but he was still too terrified to voice aloud that yes, this was what he was looking for. Every word Ilan had just given, like a gift, was everything he was too petrified to ask for. Because for all that those words wrapped around him and treated him like a thing worthy of being called precious, he wasn’t sure he’d ever deserve it.
He knew he was abused. He knew that Jacqueline had spent their marriage gaslighting and insulting and isolating him until he didn’t know up from down. And he knew that it had taken years for him to trust himself as a person, a spouse, a father. But in the process, his son had gotten hurt, and how could he forgive himself for that?
How could he allow himself to have something that good? How could he make up for those past mistakes and actually deserve it?
“I’m not here to tell you what to do,” Ilan said. “I’m not going to hold your hand and pretend like you’re not capable of finding someone. I just don’t want you to do this alone.”
Fredric breathed, then he turned his palm and took Ilan’s hand. Touching, for him, was looking, feeling the subtle way Ilan’s fingers shook, and his palm sweat. He could tell that it had taken every ounce of pride and love Ilan had to say all of that.
“I’m not alone,” Fredric said. “I promise. Tonight would have ended with beer and tacos no matter what. But I’m glad that this fork in the road has you sitting in front of me right now.”
Ilan let out a sigh, then squeezed Fredric’s hand before pulling away. “Can we get lunch soon? With neither of us trying to escape bad dates?”
Fredric’s mouth stretched into a smile. “Yes. And tonight, you can even drive me home and see my new place. Me moving away wasn’t so everyone else could become strangers, you know.”
“I know,” Ilan said.
“I’ll call Julian soon,” he added, his last concession of the night. “And you can visit me whenever you want. Is that good enough for now?”
Ilan was quiet a long while, then he let out a slow breath and sounded like he just might be smiling. “Yeah. It’s good enough. For now.”
Chapter 7
Ilan was unsettled. And for a while, he assumed it was the move. In spite of it being firmly at the start of winter, the temperature went up, and a bout of humidity hit the coast so the morning he started to unpack, he was dripping sweat and breathing a little heavier than usual. It didn’t help that he’d been plagued with insomnia since his taco night with Fredric, and he assumed that was because he was reeling over seeing him on a date with a man and then finding out that Julian knew the entire time.
But reality hit him as he started putting books away on his shelf and thinking about Fredric’s little seaside bungalow that was less than a ten-minute drive from his own place. He hadn’t told Fredric he’d moved into town. It was the lie that was choking him, that was robbing his sleep and spinning in his gut.
He’d been overwhelmed with shock at the situation that night, and when he dropped Fredric off and taken a quick tour of his place, it hadn’t occurred to him to tell the guy he was only a hop, skip, and a jump away if he was ever needed. Moving to the kitchen, Ilan poured himself water from the fridge spout, then stared at the way the sunlight lit up the sharp corners of the square glass as it filtered in through the kitchen window.