little polyglot,” Sebastion said with a quiet chuckle, then he shrugged. “My parents were Deaf. And that set me apart, growing up hearing in their world, and being gay on top of that was…too much for them, I think. Then I told them about my ex…”
“What was his name?” Xan asked very quietly.
Sebastion swallowed thickly, and just when Xan thought he wasn’t going to answer, he whispered it. “Rhys.”
He rolled the name around in his head. Rhys and Max. So unobtrusive. So common.
“I need you to know a couple of things, Alexander,” Sebastion said, and he realized in that moment just how fucking much he loved hearing that man say his whole name. “The first is that we don’t want you to go, but our reasons might be a little bit selfish—and because of that, it might be better if you do.”
He wasn’t sure how those words made him feel, but they settled under his skin, burning like fire. “Okay.”
“The second is that…” Sebastion’s eyes darted to the doorway, then he shook his head and Xan was pretty fucking sure the next words weren’t what he was going to say before. “We aren’t going anywhere, and we’re going to help you get out.”
He allowed himself a smile—even if it was a small one. The quiet fantasy in his head wanted Sebastion to open his arms and pull him close and kiss him. And keep kissing him until a sleep-rumpled Luca shuffled into the room. Maybe he’d stare for a minute. But it wouldn’t take long for him to put his massive arm around Xan’s waist and join in.
But he knew even if they were open to something like that, it wasn’t for him. He was too much of a mess, and if Sebastion had been through it himself, he knew intimately how wrong Xan would be.
Still, he couldn’t help the way it hurt.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. He knew there was something Sebastion was holding back too, but he didn’t push him on it. “I think I’m gonna go get a room somewhere.”
He didn’t miss the way the other man flinched. “Alright.”
“I promise I’m not going back to him. I’m…not after this.” His tongue touched the scab on the edge of his lip, and he shuddered. “I might need to go get some of my stuff, though.”
“And that’s what we’re here for,” Sebastion said. He took a step closer, but not enough to dissolve the distance between them. “Promise me that you won’t shut us out, and we’ll give you every second of space you need.”
Xan bowed his head and wondered if he’d ever be a man as good enough as Sebastion was. “I’ll try.” It was the best he could do, and Sebastion’s face told him he understood. “Um. I’m gonna call a car now, if that’s okay. I know I should say goodbye to Luca, but…”
“No, it’s fine,” Sebastion said, and there was something in his tone Xan couldn’t read. “It’s probably better that way for now.” When Xan winced, Sebastion reached out and brushed a curled knuckle against his jaw. “He’s a little…clingy. He’ll understand why you need to do this, but he won’t let go very easily.”
It helped. Just a little, but it helped. “Thanks. Can I…”
He didn’t need to finish his sentence. Sebastion pulled him into his arms and held him like he didn’t want to let him go. Xan allowed himself the single, selfish moment to indulge, to breathe in the gentle morning scent of his coffee and his toothpaste and something like dish soap on his hands.
He dragged himself away, feeling a stone lodged in his gut, but he wasn’t crying so he considered that a success. “Kiss Ivy for me? Tell her I’ll see her soon?” And those words tasted like a lie on the back of his tongue, but he wasn’t sure why.
Sebastion just smiled and nodded. “Of course I will.”
He didn’t show Xan to the door, but he figured that was probably for the best.
Chapter Thirteen
Dear so-called Husband.
I don’t know on what planet you thought it was okay to tell me he was gone with a note, but this is grounds for divorce.
I mean it this time.
Come. Home.
-L
It had been just over twenty-four hours since Luca had seen Xan. He’d woken up to a note on the dresser from Sebastion saying that Xan had gotten a hotel and that he’d be in touch when he was ready. The only thing left in his house of him now was the lingering