Fredric snorted a laugh and shook his head. “I’m not offended. It’s not like we’re trying to keep our honeymoon phase a secret.”
Considering Ilan had kissed him within an inch of his life just outside the studio doors, Fredric half expected the ribbing. Most of the people who worked at the gallery enjoyed giving Fredric shit for dating a younger man—especially a younger man who looked like Ilan. He’d heard the words Dr. Beefcake whispered around a few times, and when he told Ilan, the pair of them laughed until Fredric’s eyes watered.
“I like when you’re happy,” Ted told him. “I mean, you were nice when you were kind of bummed out, but this is better.”
Fredric wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, though he appreciated that his neighbor and now-employer seemed to appreciate each of his sides. And he was happy—blissful and exhausted in all the right ways. He didn’t see Ilan as often as he wanted to, but it was nothing like his relationship with Jacqueline had been.
Ilan was busy most days trying to get his practice off the ground before the building was done. He’d managed to lease a building, but it needed the top floors redone—and he was busy working with his team on getting a list of patients and insurance contracts or however the hell the medical side of it worked.
Fredric still lamented about all the time they didn’t spend together, but being distracted during the day made the nights with Ilan that much sweeter, and he was starting to feel settled in ways he’d never been before. He had a little desk in the gallery, off the beaten path and out of the way. He worked a few hours a week, made sure nothing needed his attention, kept Teddy out of court, and it kept him from missing Ilan as much.
Fredric knew he needed to keep space between him and the relationship for a while. Ilan was nothing like Jacqueline, but those wounds had yet to close. It had barely been over a year since they’d separated, and not quite a year since the divorce was final. He was doing better, but Fredric still felt weak some days, and it weighed on him.
Ilan was patient, even if Fredric could feel him starting to strain under the distance. And Fredric had been avoiding Julian lately so he didn’t slip and tell him something he shouldn’t—and he was starting to feel cracks. He never lied to his son—not when it mattered—and loving Ilan mattered.
“You’re a million miles away,” Ted commented, and Fredric dragged a hand down his face, leaning his chair back so he could feel the sun through the window.
“Sorry. It’s…strange, you know? To be this happy but still have so much not quite right?”
Teddy was quiet a long moment. “Are things not going well for you?”
Fredric shook his head. “That’s not it. It’s…” Well, that wasn’t entirely it. The sex was amazing, and the conversation was even better, but it always felt like starting from scratch every time they spent days apart. And maybe that was relationships, but he wouldn’t know. He and Jacqueline had been thrust together by a cheap drug-store pregnancy test and two sets of parents who wouldn’t let there be a scandal.
Anything resembling love between them had fizzled into nothing by the time Corinne was born, but Fredric had never ever been alone. Even if his bed was empty, Jacqueline’s presence was always around. Her influence touched everything, her voice echoing in every corner of his life until he believed that there was no escape.
When he left, everything felt cavernous. He carved her out, but she left behind holes too big for him to fill alone, and he didn’t want to heap that responsibility on Ilan’s shoulders. The man deserved better than that. But Fredric too often felt like he was steps away from failure because he didn’t know what was supposed to be normal.
And what if normal broke them? What if normal for Ilan was wrong for Fredric?
He woke in gasping panics every so often, dreaming of fights where Ilan’s voice surrounded him from all sides, blaming him for ruining something that should have been perfect. In his dreams, he’d chase him, his feet pounding like he was running in the sand, his hands out reaching, but Ilan was always just out of his grasp.
Then he’d wake alone and desperate to close the space between them, but he had no idea how to merge their lives without putting it all at risk for falling apart.
What he wanted was advice, but he felt trapped by the silence Ilan was still asking for out of fear that they’d both lose Julian.
“Why don’t you take the day off,” Teddy said. “Those emails will wait until Monday.”
Fredric opened his mouth to say no, because he didn’t like putting stuff off, but the feeling of relief answered for him. “Actually, I think I might. I’m trying to plan a little Chanukah dinner for Ilan. He’s not really much into celebrating, but we’re both missing the holidays with family this year.”
“Are you getting him gifts?” Teddy asked.
Fredric’s brows furrowed. Ilan’s family had never done gifts—it had never been their tradition. Fredric had been invited for dinner once or twice, and Ilan’s mother had even gotten a tactile dreidel so he could play along with the kids. The night was sweet, the blessings melodic, the food rich and delicious. He sat on the sofa and listened to the kids laughing and fighting over the chocolate coins. He basked in the love that filled the room that night and became more profoundly aware of just how different his own life was from theirs. Richer, yes, more privileged. But it was lacking in so much feeling.
Jacqueline would throw a party and the children would donate a gift to charity. People got drunk and left behind thousands of dollars’ worth of catered food on a buffet table. Jacqueline would sleep through the morning while Fredric sat with his kids near the tree and let them open up their small gifts he’d spent months picking out, but there was no laughter, no games, nothing that felt like home.
When Ilan’s parents died, Fredric made an attempt over the years to offer him a place to be over the holidays, but Ilan filled his days with work instead. When things were particularly bleak, Ilan and Julian would order Chinese and see a movie on Christmas day, but it was nothing like those early years he remembered, and he knew there was an empty space in Ilan’s life that his parents’ affection for him had once filled.
This year managed to feel worse. He was being selfish—first taking time alone and now having Ilan in secret. And at first, he liked the idea. Having Ilan all to himself without the pressure of family felt like the dream for their first holiday together as a couple. But the more Ilan dug his heels in about telling Julian, the more Fredric started to fear they’d never get there.
And, of course, Julian had accepted that they weren’t coming, but only with the promise that the next year would be different. Fredric tried not to let himself worry about not getting there, instead choosing a fantasy where everything was out in the open and they were all together as a family.
Maybe they’d be in Paris for it, where it was cold. He and Ilan would wrap up in a blanket and step outside and kiss under fat flakes of snow that melted on their cheeks.
And it wouldn’t matter what holiday it was, only that they were together for it.
Fredric gathered his things, then he and Bas made their way out the doors and down toward a small string of shops that were nestled in a little strip mall near the gallery. He’d spent the first week after starting at Teddy’s getting to know the place, and there was one particular little curio shop where the owner made homemade candles. The place had a wide show room, everything on shelves just so, and he always chatted with Fredric like they were old friends.