make it on his own.
Ilan had seen him as a weak person, once. He’d even hated him a little, because he’d blamed him for what Jacqueline had done to her children. But that was a damn long time ago, and his eyes were open now. He saw the way she had chipped at Fredric—bit by bit. He saw the way she played off his vulnerability and disability. He saw the way she’d reduced him to a man who was capable of being so much more, but too afraid to take that leap.
Until he wasn’t.
And the last thing Ilan wanted to do was step on Fredric’s toes when he was finding solid ground for the first time in too many years.
“You know he’d call if he was in trouble,” Ilan said.
“Yeah, but would he?” Julian sounded exhausted. “I’m afraid he’s letting his pride get in the way of practicality. I’m glad he left, I didn’t want him to stay there where she could get to him, but I didn’t expect him to cut all of us out. It would be better if he was coming for the holidays, but he keeps turning down my offer to fly him out, and I just worry it’s because…because something’s wrong, and he doesn’t want to admit it.”
Ilan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let me deal with this house thing, okay? It’s going to take a couple days, and once I get the movers signed to bring all my shit here, I’ll give him a call and invite him out to dinner. You know I’m good at reading him.”
Julian sighed. “Yeah, you are. You never did tell me where you were moving to, by the—oh.” He went quiet, then Ilan heard a voice in the background. “I have to run. Call me tomorrow?”
Ilan didn’t get a chance to answer that before the line went dead. He smiled, even as he felt a pang of hurt that Julian’s life was so damn full—and it was so damn full without him. He was building a life and a relationship—stronger than his previous marriage could have ever hoped to be. And it was all Ilan had ever wanted for him.
He just hadn’t wanted to be separated by an ocean.
He squeezed the phone in his hand, then decided he should get dressed and do something with himself. He’d had enough wallowing with take-out and booze. It was time to start establishing himself as a resident of Crescent Cove rather than the man who swept in for a few days, glanced around, then left without leaving a single mark.
Chapter 5
Ilan decided not to call himself a failure, even though his grand day out consisted of getting a smoothie, finding a decent pita place for lunch, then spending two hours sitting on the beach staring at old remnants of sea turtle nest posts that no one had bothered to remove after the clutch had made their way to the water.
He grabbed a few interesting shells when he found the energy to take a walk and even made his way to a few of the tide pools that were filled with snails. The beach felt like an alien world, but he was looking forward to making it his own, and it was with that in mind that he climbed into his car and took a drive to the house that would eventually be his.
The sun was setting by the time he pulled into the driveway, and it was locked up, but the gate to the dock was open. He walked down the weak, water-logged wood and made a note to call someone to fix it, but it wasn’t high on his list of priorities right then. Being there, right on the banks of the water without a soul around reminded him he was more than just lonely. He was alone. He took a deep breath of the humid, cool air, then moved all the way down to the edge of the water.
The rack for the kayak was sturdy, and apart from a couple of barnacles on the bottom, it looked in decent working order. The neighborhood was sparse, most of them summer houses with dark windows and shutters locked tight. He had a feeling he might get to know himself very well, if he was going to be the only man on the street year-round.
A few of the people had twinkle lights up in soft reds and bright greens, but there were no signs of cars, and he felt a small