seven years, so yes, I paid attention. It’s not why I asked you out, though.”
Sitting back, Raphael crossed one arm over his chest and used his other hand to draw lines in the condensation on his glass. “Why not make it more awkward? Why is he an ex?”
“He wanted kids,” Rian said after a beat, blowing out a puff of air, “and I didn’t. And he was willing to compromise, but the compromise was making him angry, and all we did was fight at the end. Then he met someone else.”
Raphael allowed himself to feel a faint stab of sympathy for him, a little unwilling, but it was there all the same. “I’ve never been cheated on, and I think I consider myself very lucky.”
“It was a grey area with him,” Rian admitted. “He was in love, but they never…while we were together.” He stopped and dragged a hand down his face. “It felt the same, though. It made it easier to let him go.”
Raphael thumbed the rim of his glass, then picked it up and took a drink as the server appeared with their artichokes. They were beautiful, as all of Enzo’s food was beautiful. Perfectly roasted, sprinkled with cheese, drizzled with aioli. He could smell the blackened edges and the rich hearts, but he wasn’t hungry.
“I see why this place has a two year wait for a weekend table,” Rian said, peeling away one of the outer leaves. He took a bite and smiled. “How did you snag the reservation?”
“Nepotism,” Raphael said. He took a few of the leaves onto his plate to be polite, and bit into one. Rian wasn’t wrong—it was delicious and light, and he probably would have been satisfied with just that if it wouldn’t look impolite. “We’re all sort of a family here. He favors us.”
“Well, my compliments to him when you speak to him next,” Rian said.
Raphael looked up at him and took a breath, not willing to let the conversation take such a mundane turn. Rian was the one who brought it up, after all. “What was your ex’s disability?”
That startled Rian enough that his hand froze halfway to his mouth, then gently lowered to the table. His cheeks flushed, and he knew he’d been caught, which also meant he thought he was fooling Raphael. “He had a—um. A TBI. A traumatic…”
“I know what it is,” Raphael said, trying to keep his tone soft.
“We were friends in high school, got into the same University. Our freshman year, we were at a frat party. He got wasted, and someone dared him to jump off the roof into the pool.” Rian swallowed, then took a drink. “He missed.”
Raphael didn’t wince, but it was a near thing. On some level, he was grateful he’d never been given a choice in avoiding his disability. It was a birth injury, but it had always been outside of anyone’s control, as much as his mother liked to shoulder the blame. But he’d never had to wallow in regrets, in the what ifs, in the if only I’d taken a different path. If only I hadn’t sipped that beer, or gotten in that car.
“He left school, and I didn’t see him for a couple of years. We ran into each other at the public pool where he was working.” Rian drummed his fingers on the table. “He lost a lot of motor function, but he was still the same guy,” he stopped and smiled, shrugging. “I think he thought that my reluctance to have kids was because I didn’t trust him to parent, you know?”
Raphael felt something hot and uncomfortable in his gut. “So, you want to date other disabled men to prove that wasn’t why your relationship ended?”
Rian’s eyes widened. “No, I…” Then he stopped, which surprised Raphael because he’d accused men and women of this before, but none of them had ended two words into their defensive rant. “I don’t think so. I’ve never wanted kids, and he was aware of that. Sometimes, it just felt like an excuse.”
“Or insecurity,” Raphael said, not sure if he believed him or not. “But there’s no shame in walking away if there’s no middle ground.”
“You sound like you know from experience,” Rian pointed out.
Raphael knew it was a deflection of sorts, but he was willing to give Rian the pass because he’d at least considered the question, and he hadn’t attacked. “I’ve never had the choice in walking away. My two long term partners both left me for their