Love In Slow Motion (Love Beyond Measure #2) - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,17
there was a human alive he’d be able to trust in order to find contentment, let alone happiness. The thought of being alone for the rest of his life was gutting, but the thought of inflicting all his issues on another person was horrifying.
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock, and Fredric ran his hand over his hair one last time before reaching for the door and opening it. He offered a smile at the sound of her feet shuffling, like maybe she was nervous.
“Hey. So, um, how do I…you know? Do this so you don’t fall.”
He reached out a hand, and she took it. “I’ve got my cane to keep me from falling. I just need you to lead the way.”
Her fingers were cold in his, but they didn’t cling as he drew a path up her arm to the back of her elbow, then followed her careful steps as she turned and moved away from the door. He let go only a second to lock up, then resumed his pace, and he was grateful she didn’t walk him across the pavement like he was a hundred-year-old man with two broken feet.
“I’ve never done this before,” she said after a beat, and he couldn’t help his laugh.
“You know, most people haven’t, but you’re doing fine. Better than most.” The path was smooth under his cane tip, and he felt it shift from cement to grass, then to the asphalt as they left his driveway. “I really appreciate you having me over. I wasn’t actually sure I’d make friends this soon.”
“Oh.” She was silent a while. “Are we friends? Most of the neighbors don’t like me.”
His brows lifted high, startled because she talked a lot and had little filter, but he found everything about her so damn charming. “Why’s that? Are they terrible people?”
She hummed. “Probably. They kind of wrote me off after we moved here because they didn’t really like Teddy. He jokes that it’s his green hair, but I think it’s the tattoos. And probably that his top surgery scars are obvious, and he mows the lawn without his shirt on. Which is because I like it,” she added, and Fredric felt his face split into a grin.
“Eye candy?”
Agatha laughed, and he felt her shoulder rise and fall in a shrug. “I think a lot of the people here think that people like us shouldn’t have money, you know? Or we shouldn’t use our money to take up space in the neighborhoods they expect to be a certain way. But Teddy’s an artist—he does shows across the world, his paintings and sculptures go for a lot of money. He’s in three dozen museums, and he owns his own gallery.”
Fredric’s grin only got wider at the sort of pure and innocent pride in her voice. “It sounds like he’s done amazing for himself.”
“He worked hard, and I don’t give a fuck what those people think.”
Gently squeezing her arm, he pulled her to a stop as he felt his cane touch pavement again. “Promise me you won’t ever give a fuck.” He felt it, the need to know that if he could offer even the smallest bit of advice to help her avoid the people he’d spent his life trying to please, she’d take it. “They’re never worth it.”
“You sound like you know.”
“I do,” he said. “I grew up in that world, married into it, raised my kids there. I sat in a courtroom and helped defend those people.”
“They hurt you,” she said, softer this time.
Fredric closed his eyes against the pain he didn’t want to feel. “It’s who they are—and it took me far too long to realize that there was no changing them. That if I wanted things to be different, I was the one who had to go.”
“I’m sorry.” She laid her hand on his arm and squeezed. “You have us though.”
He smiled again and then gave her a little nudge forward. “It seems like I do.”
She didn’t say anything else until they got to the door, Fredric feeling the steps with his cane before she remembered to warn him, and he made it inside the foyer without incident. The place sounded full—it lacked echoes, and the air was warm, and it had the sort of musty smell of plaster and paint. The floor under his feet was tile, smoother than the one in his own house, and after a few steps his cane caught on the edge of a rug.