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“Sorry just…Ididn’t know,” Dmitri confessed, looking even more embarrassed. “Owen said—” And then he stopped, and Raphael didn’t blame him. He hadn’t known Owen at all either, but he knew about the events surrounding the lake and Antoine, and Owen’s subsequent departure from the town. He wasn’t sure anyone but Fitz and Nellie missed him, which made him grieve a little because everyone deserved to be missed when they were gone. “He gave me some really wrong information and made me feel stupid.”
Raphael let out a sigh, wanting to offer some words of comfort because he understood—intimately—what it was like to be talked down to and made to feel less.
But he had no real words of comfort for the man in front of him, because he had not yet found words to comfort himself. Apart from accepting that most people were cruel—whether intentional or not—he had no fight against them. He could be like others, sink into the endless climb of activism, but he was getting old.
And he was tired.
And when he looked at Dmitri, he could already see those same fatigue lines in the young man’s face.
It wasn’t fair, and Raphael felt a sudden burst of hatred for the world.
“I know that look,” Dmitri said before Raphael could offer him anything. “It’s not…it’s not like I was heartbroken or anything. I was just angry and a little bit sad. And I definitely don’t want to spend my birthday with some random stranger again.”
Raphael laughed and shook his head. “Good advice for anyone, I think. I’ve made some questionable birthday choices myself over the years. But,” he started, then stopped because maybe he was in the wrong for assuming at all. But Dmitri’s eyes looked almost hungry for him to continue, so he did. “But I’m not a total stranger.”
Dmitri blinked, then the right corner of his mouth lifted. “I guess not.”
“What do you do? When you eat your take-out?”
Dmitri’s grin widened, and he leaned against the desk. “Do people compliment your accent a lot?”
“No,” Raphael blinked at the sudden change in subject, but it made him smile. “It’s not romantic like the Italians or the French. It’s rough. My language doesn’t have sweet nothings that fall of the tongue and make Americans swoon.”
Dmitri shook his head. “I think we just established a minute ago that people are terrible. I like it.”
“Is this your way of avoiding my question?” he asked, lifting a brow, and he saw the way Dmitri’s cheeks went a little darker. He liked the feeling of teasing him, of it being easy. He liked that there was a comfort here because Dmitri had been around almost as long as him, and they were both insiders and outsiders in Savannah and always would be. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“There’s an old abandoned church,” Dmitri answered after a pause. “It’s kind of near the mall. I get sweet and sour chicken from Lotus Garden, and I sit on the hood of my car and eat it.”
“Usually alone,” Raphael said.
Dmitri bit his lip, then shrugged. “Maybe not tonight?”
Raphael felt something small and quiet unknot in his chest, and he reached for his keys before using his crutch to help him stand. “My evening is free.”
Dmitri’s continued smile was worth it.
* * *
The driveto the restaurant was just over twenty minutes, and there wasn’t much to be said in the car, but Raphael found he didn’t mind the silence. Dmitri drove, and his hands were white-knuckled with his grip on the steering wheel until Raphael turned on the radio. It wasn’t long before he was tapping out a rhythm to some of the old seventies rock, which was the only decent station they could get on that road.
“My dad was really into those folk bands,” Dmitri said quietly after the last song faded into a series of ads. “The ones with all the mandolins and tambourines.” His finger flicked at the volume until it died in the speaker, then he sighed. “One of my first memories is of him and my mom dancing in the kitchen to this one band…I don’t even remember the name. The singer was English, I think. She had this really melodic voice.”
Raphael smiled at him, leaning back against the seat. “Your parents loved each other?”
“I don’t know. Maybe once upon a time.” Dmitri licked his lips and kept his gaze firmly on the road, but Raphael was pretty sure the younger man could see him out of his periphery. “I’d probably be more jaded about the idea of love if it weren’t for my aunts, you know? Like they’ve been through some shit, but they’re still really into each other.”
“I’ve noticed,” Raphael said, because he had. Everyone had. They were one of the couples on the long list of relationships that choked him with both envy and happiness because of course people deserved to find contentment, even if it would never be for him. “They’re good people.”
“Yeah.” Dmitri bit his lip. “I was kind of unfair to them when I got back to Savannah. Life with my dad was really shitty, and they just kind of shuffled me off to Jayden, who didn’t know what the fuck to do with some angry teenager.”
“He loves you,” Raphael said quickly. He felt a fiery need to defend his friend, only because he had seen the way Jayden had put everything quietly behind what Dmitri needed in those couple of years.
“I know. They all do, but I was angry, and it’s hard to live with that guilt now.” Dmitri dragged a hand down his face, then gripped the wheel again. “I’m trying, but no one wants to believe it. Owen fucked up, and I got left with his reputation after he took off, and…” He went silent a long moment, but Raphael could tell he just needed time. “I keep wondering if maybe I should just leave too, you know? It’s not like I’m going to make something of myself working in a cupcake shop.”
“Only if you think your work defines who you are,” Raphael pointed out. “I don’t think I’m a less worthy version of myself because I make appointments all day.”
“That’s not,” Dmitri said, then shook his head. “See, this is what I do. My mouth doesn’t connect to my brain, and I say stupid shit and… I mean, it’s no wonder people don’t want to give me a second chance.”
