“How long?”
Fredric bit the inside of his cheek. “A few weeks—at least since there was anything official between us. But it’s been building for a while.”
Julian scoffed, but he didn’t sound angry. “He’s been in love with you in some form or another since I can remember, so it’s not really a shock to me. At least on his part.”
Fredric didn’t know what to say. Any defense made him feel like a dirty old man, and he wasn’t sure he didn’t deserve the title. Not that it mattered—he loved Ilan, and the fear of losing him had wrapped around Fredric’s heart and still hadn’t quite let go.
“I’m not angry,” Julian said after a beat. He shifted, then Fredric felt Bas settle on the floor between their feet. “I’m hurt that you didn’t tell me, but…” he said before Fredric could say anything, “I understand.”
“I promised I wouldn’t keep anything from you. It was our biggest fight—right before the…” his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Before the accident. He walked out, and I wasn’t sure he was coming back.” Scrubbing a hand down his face, he turned his other palm and grasped for Julian’s fingers.
“You love him.”
“I love him.” Fredric tried for a smile. “All of this—moving, this house, this life—being on my own, I can’t tell you how important it was for me. Living under your mother’s heel for thirty-six years, her constantly telling me I could never do it on my own, I had started to believe her. No”—he stopped and let out a bitter laugh—“I did believe her. But I wanted to prove myself wrong just as much as her.”
“So, you’re not angry I left?”
Fredric felt his smile soften. “You didn’t leave. The distance between us is only that—distance. You’re never gone.”
Julian shifted over and laid his head on Fredric’s shoulder. “I was afraid you resented me or…” He let out a breath. “You were avoiding me.”
“I couldn’t lie to you,” Fredric said, letting the guilt hit him. “I couldn’t bring myself to lie, and I was afraid Ilan would never find the courage to risk losing you.”
He felt Julian sit up so fast, it nearly clipped his chin. “Lose me?”
“We’re all he has,” Fredric reminded him gently. “He knows if it came down to it and you forced me to choose…”
“That fucking idiot,” Julian growled.
Fredric reached for his arm again. “If you forced me to choose…”
“Don’t,” Julian said. “Because you’re not a monster, and neither am I. Even if this is strange—and it is—I would never ask you to do that. And you would never make a choice.”
Fredric smiled at his son’s words, and he drew him close again. “Tell him that. He’ll be awake soon, and you can tell him yourself.”
“I’m going to slap him across the face.”
Fredric laughed again and breathed out a sigh when Julian settled back down on his shoulder. “Just be mindful of the concussion.”
Chapter 27
Time felt abstract, but Ilan woke to the sound of familiar voices and then smelled a cologne he’d been missing for months and months. He cracked one eye open, his limbs still heavy from his medication, and tried to roll over onto his arm before the pain reminded him that it was broken.
“Idiot,” came a soft voice, and Ilan smiled as Julian came and sat at the edge of his bed.
Pushing up slightly, Ilan reached out, and Julian fell into his embrace, careful of his injuries, but holding tight like he almost didn’t care. It felt right to have him back, perfect. It felt like he’d never been gone, though there was a lingering ache when he realized that this was only temporary.
“You shouldn’t have come all this way for my stupid arm,” Ilan said once Julian pulled back, and he grinned when his friend rolled his eyes.
“We got to ride on a private jet commissioned by the governor. Trust me, it wasn’t a hardship.” Julian reached up and brushed his fingers through Ilan’s hair, pushing a few strands back away from his forehead. “How’s your head?”
“I’ve had way worse in college. That time I got shit-faced and tried to hang upside down from the bleachers…?”
Julian rolled his eyes. “Mm. So, it’s not bad?”
“It’s nothing,” Ilan said.
Cocking his head to the side, Julian nodded, then slapped him. It was almost like a movie slap, all noise and no pain, but the shock of it sent him sitting upright. “That was for thinking I would ever hate you,” Julian said. “And you deserve worse for fucking lying to me.”
Ilan licked his lips, finding them painfully dry. It had been long enough, he could tolerate more than ice chips by now, and god he wanted a drink. “Your dad told you?”
“He didn’t need to. He was fast asleep, holding you when we got in,” Julian said with his arms crossed. “I made him tell me the rest.”
Ilan raised his hands—the signs wanting to pour from his fingers, because he wanted to tell Julian everything knowing he wouldn’t miss a word. But his arm hurt too much. “He wanted to tell you sooner, but I panicked.”
“Oh, I know.”
Ilan blinked and felt a little hurt. “He told you that too?”
At that, Julian snorted and rolled his eyes. “He didn’t have to. I know you. I know that you’d keep any kind of relationship from me—but especially one with my dad.” His lips thinned, which made his scar turn paler against the skin of his upper lip, and he leaned forward. “And I fucking knew it. I knew you were in love with him.”
Ilan felt his face go white-hot, and he glanced away. “Well, I didn’t know.” His words must have been raw with honesty, because Julian gave him a startled look.
“Not even a little?”
“He’s been one of the most important people in my life for as long as I can remember. And I honestly have no idea when my feelings started to change.”
“The wedding,” Julian said softly, and Ilan shook his head.
“For him, yeah. I think. But it didn’t occur to me that he’d ever…that we could ever be more. It feels like he’s two different people. The man who cleaned up my bloody nose after I got into that fight in fourth grade—when he lied to my parents about what happened.” Julian laughed at the memory. “And the man who…” And then he stopped abruptly, because there were some things he could no longer share with his best friend. “The man who made me realize I was someone worthy of falling in love with.”
“I’ve been telling you that for years,” Julian said, and there was some hurt in his tone, even as his eyes were soft.
Ilan licked his lips, then squeezed Julian’s hand tight. “I’m sorry.”
Julian let out a really quiet sigh. “It’s okay. You’re a stubborn bastard, and I didn’t expect different. I don’t blame you for not telling me. I mean, I do. I hate being lied to, but I understand. And for the record, I don’t know that I would have taken it well. The hospital thing kind of softened the blow.”