he was both willing and stupid enough to just sign everything and be done with it, but Julian had everything to lose, and Bryce had everything to gain.
It was his own fault, in a way. Julian was the sort of man who knew when he was being taken advantage of, but it wasn’t often he had the will to give a shit. He tried to be good-natured, but in reality, he was socially awkward, anxious, and hated confrontation. When Bryce started working late and hiding his phone, and acting sketchy whenever Julian would walk behind him, he knew. He hadn’t anticipated that Bryce had the balls not only to fuck one of Julian’s close family members, but then to leave him for the man—but he wasn’t naïve. He was just an emotional mess.
For three days, Julian allowed his best friend, Ilan, to ply him with a lot of wine and salty takeout, and then he made the call. First to his lawyer, who asked for forty-eight hours to prepare a response. Then finally to his mother who, for whatever wild reason, assumed that Julian would sell his condo, pack his things, and move in with her.
“I have your old room ready, but there will be rules,” she’d said, and with a bravery he didn’t realize he ‘d had in that moment—and it was probably mostly the wine—he laughed and hung up on her.
He spent another afternoon day drunk and online shopping with Ilan, who knew exactly what Julian needed in that moment. Julian had met him in third grade when Ilan was the poor kid who got a scholarship to his rich school. Ilan was brash and abrasive and ready to punch Julian in the face, and Julian liked him for that.
Ilan was the kind of person he could spill secrets to and know that they would never get out. He was the sort of friend who showed up exactly when Julian needed him. He was the sort of friend with a big life and important career as a doctor, but he was willing to call in favors and throw his shifts to a colleague for three days in a row because Julian was facing down a divorce from a man no one had ever really believed would love Julian.
He was the sort of friend who’s I told you so didn’t sting that much because it came with a bowl of Pillsbury funfetti cupcake batter and cheap bodega wine to soften the edges and curb the blow.
At his desk now, in his empty apartment, he stared at his blank computer background and wondered if he needed another binge weekend. He didn’t mourn the loss of Bryce, but being forced to sit through the fucking social circus of Bryce and Ashton’s engagement and wedding threatened what tiny shards of pride he had left to his name.
And it was possible once that Julian fancied himself in love with Bryce. He was attractive—the sort of attractive that shouldn’t have been interested in a man like Julian anyway. Bryce spent more hours in the gym than out of it, and his abs looked like they belonged in a museum. Nothing about him was particularly natural, but he wore it well, and Julian had once been a little bit proud to show that off.
He didn’t even entirely mind that Bryce hadn’t hidden his interest in marrying wealthy. They met at a club, when Julian was trying not to act like the fifth wheel on a double date that a couple colleagues tried to convince him wasn’t one. He’d been searching for that happy medium between wallflower and awkward social dipshit when Bryce caught sight of his black card.
Bryce’s eyes widened, and his smile softened, and Julian knew right then it was the money, but he didn’t care because the hottest man in the room was paying him attention. He figured he’d be good for endless drinks and a quick fuck in a bathroom stall.
That quick fuck turned into two weeks of whirlwind romance which ended with a proposal outside of a gas station on a road-trip to Vermont, and plans for a destination wedding. His mother was excited for the prospect of Julian settling down, and she later confessed to hoping that he’d be more motivated to get a better job since his trust was finite and Bryce wasn’t going to be content on a teaching salary.
His father had been the one to raise actual concerns—not just to the threat of Julian’s cash, but to