Love In Slow Motion (Love Beyond Measure #2) - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,3

I suppose. I deserved a lot more anger from Julian than he gave me for taking this long to finally get out.”

“He loves you,” Ilan argued, and Fredric laughed again.

“I know he does. God, I know.” He dragged his hand down his face, then leaned back against the cushion with his eyes wide open toward the ceiling. “I don’t deserve it, but I’m grateful for it.”

“If you ever start to wonder where Julian got his self-esteem from,” Ilan began, and though it was meant to be a joke, Fredric felt it like a blow to the sternum.

His breath caught in his chest, and he squeezed his hands again to stop them from shaking.

“Can I ask you something,” Ilan said after a moment, and Fredric waved at him to go on. “What are you going to do?”

Fredric closed his eyes and tilted his head toward Ilan. “I don’t know. I’ve already let my firm know that I’m not coming back. Maybe I’ll take up knitting.” He stopped when he felt warm fingers curl around his wrist.

“That’s not what I mean,” Ilan said, and Fredric sighed, because he knew what Ilan was really asking.

“I don’t know, and I’m terrified,” he admitted. The words were gutting, bitter, and painful as he forced them out, but he hadn’t said any of this to anyone. Ilan’s hand tightened on his, and he let the touch ground him as he reached for emotions he’d been tucking away into dark corners for so long. “Sometimes I don’t know if I can do this without her, but I also know that I’d rather die than stay another day in this marriage. She was my first everything, but I feel like she robbed me of all the joy that could have been, if only I’d had the courage to leave the day I realized I was nothing more than a burden to her.”

“Papa,” Ilan breathed out, and Fredric shook his head, sitting up and dislodging Ilan’s grasp.

“I’m tired of letting fear dictate my future—what little I have left of one.”

At that, the other man laughed. “Don’t be such a fucking fatalist. You’re not actually old. You’re gorgeous, and you’re one of the smartest people I have ever known. You’re funny, and you’re kind, and you’re worthy.” His voice got a little lower, and Fredric wondered for a moment if he looked anything like the child with the small voice and angry, swinging fists Fredric had once known. “If you do anything else in your life—anything at all—be happy. All I want to know, is that you’re going to try and find what makes you happy.”

“I’m not afraid to try,” Fredric said, then he smiled. “Hell, I’m not even afraid to fail.”

“So, what is it?”

The question was simple, the answer easy, but the words wouldn’t come. He reached for Ilan, and he felt something hit him as their hands touched. A tiny spark, a little burst of heat that raced up his arm. He turned Ilan’s palm in his, traced around his fingers. They were strong but delicate, and the lines in his palms were deeply etched.

“Come on, old man,” Ilan prodded gently. He shifted so they were even closer, and Fredric could feel the gentle rise and fall of his breath where their shoulders touched. Ilan’s hand turned, fingers tangling with Fredric’s like a ballast, like something he could cling to and stop wondering if he was about to tip off the edge of the earth. Those hands, belonging to a man who had been such a steady presence for years, meant everything right then.

Fredric tipped his face down, then smiled again when he felt Ilan’s finger trace a line over his knuckle. “I’m afraid of getting a taste of it—of happiness, freedom, of the man I could have been once—and then having it all ripped away.”

There was nothing sweeter than the scent of an empty home, Fredric decided, as he crossed the threshold of his new cottage and heard his feet echo on the tiled floors. Sebastian’s harness jingled, and his palm sweat around the grip, but it was the only thing keeping him anchored in the moment.

Mine, he thought and reached out a hand. His palm pressed to the window that overlooked the ocean, and he strained to hear the waves in the distance. This was all his now—his life, his freedom. His divorce papers were signed, his son was living in Paris with the love his life, his daughter was still speaking to him. He no