the hospital when we need it. Which, sadly, is often.”
Ilan hummed and cast his myopic gaze out the window. The day was cloudy—a sort of gloom hovering right above the water, creeping toward the beach. It was a real winter sort of day, and he embraced it fully with his pea coat and his scarf. “Do you like it here? I mean…it’s a different vibe, you know?”
Preston shrugged. “It is. And it isn’t. I mean, I was in Chicago for a long time, and it made this place look like paradise.”
Ilan grimaced. “Shit, yeah. Though I do actually kind of regret not expanding more.”
Preston shook his head and leaned his elbow on the table. “The grass is always greener, but you didn’t make a stupid choice. You just need to see what’s going to work best for you. And there’s no harm in working to make this place fit you.”
And damn if Ilan didn’t hate himself a little bit right then, because Preston’s charm was starting to crawl under his skin. “I have time to figure it out, of course. I’m not broke.”
Preston’s laugh cut him off. “I figured as much. I saw your car.”
Ilan flushed, feeling something close to guilt, the way he always did when he indulged in luxury. His mother would have screamed herself into an aneurysm if he’d rolled up to her house in a Bentley. “It sounds ridiculous, but I’m feeling…” He trailed off and drummed his fingers on the table, searching for the word.
“Unfulfilled?” Preston offered, and his eyes went soft with a measure of sympathy. “I’ve been there, trust me. I kind of had a moment after my divorce. I put my house on the market, sold my car, got ready to hand off my patients to someone else. But I realized I didn’t want to burn my life down just because he left and made my life feel a little bit unwelcoming.”
Ilan blinked, because he’d pictured Preston married to a pretty blonde woman who gave him at least four kids that were the perfect blend of them both. They belonged with sweaters tied around their shoulders and a house in the Hamptons.
Then again, maybe Preston had all of that once—just she was actually a he.
“So, what did you do?” he finally asked.
“I left my house on the market and got a new car. I kept my patients, and I reduced my on-call hours, and I took up surfing.”
Of-fucking-course he did. Surfing. Jesus. “How long ago was that?”
“Five years,” Preston said. “We were only married for two. But that’s the way it goes sometimes.” He sipped his drink again, then set it down and folded his arms over his chest. “What about you? How long ago did you split?”
Ilan blinked, then laughed. “Oh god, no. No, I’m not…I’ve…” He trailed off because he realized how pathetic it sounded to tell this man he’d never actually been in a relationship. “I haven’t been seeing anyone.”
“Oh. Oh, I’m sorry,” Preston fumbled. “I just assumed…”
“It’s fine. It’s more than fine,” Ilan said, though for some reason, it didn’t feel like it. “Other stuff in my life just changed. My best friend moved to Paris, and it made me realize just how profoundly alone I was in this city that I hated.”
Preston’s expression turned sympathetic, but without pity, and Ilan appreciated him for it. “I get that too. It’s strange when you feel stuck in place, and everyone else is moving on around you. I think that’s why Jason and I got married. It seemed like the grown-up thing to do. Then he cheated, and all my friends told me that ‘people like us’”—he used finger quotes—“weren’t meant for monogamy.”
Ilan winced. “I fucking hate that.”
“I mean, I don’t necessarily disagree. Some of us aren’t. Just…I am.” He licked his lips, and there was a sadness in his voice that made Ilan feel for him. “I dated older men for a while—but nothing ever felt right. I realized that wasn’t the kind of change I needed in my life.”
Ilan wasn’t quite sure what to do with that confession. For a brief flash, he thought about introducing Preston to Fredric. They’d probably get along. Fredric was kind and attractive and sweet. And Preston was charming, and Fredric would probably love him. And that thought gave him an instant sour stomach. Fredric wanted to find someone who made him happy, but it didn’t need to be with this man.
“Look,” Preston said after a beat, “professionally, I’d say hire a consultant.