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“This is nice,” Santiago said, holding both arms tight around Raphael’s waist. They didn’t do much beyond sway to the music, but Raphael appreciated that Santiago didn’t expect miracles of his body, but didn’t assume he couldn’t do this either. “I don’t get to dance often.”
“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend?” Raphael wondered. “You have one, don’t you?”
Santiago laughed very softly and shook his head. “No.”
Raphael was surprised by that, but he supposed stranger things happened to the best people. “Well, thanks for saving me from my crisis.”
“Is there something I can do to help?” Santiago asked after a beat.
Raphael shook his head. “I don’t think so. It’s a disaster I made.”
“I’m no stranger to those,” Santiago urged, and Raphael pulled back, seeing the honesty and faint touch of humor in his eyes. “I’ve had my fair share.”
“What did you do about it?”
“I moved to the United States and left everything behind,” he said simply, and at that, Raphael laughed.
“I did too, but it didn’t seem to make a difference.”
Santiago huffed and spun them a little as the song changed to something just slightly more upbeat. “I suppose the journey’s not the same for everyone. It just made me realize that love wasn’t the only thing I was searching for, and that made me feel like I was finally home.”
And well, that hit a little too close to his heart. Close enough he winced, and Santiago held him just a bit tighter. “I think I’ve been a bit of a fool.”
“Then you need to figure out how to fix it.”
Raphael nodded, glancing down at their feet. His dragged on the floor, the worn edges of his shoes scuffing the polished wood with black slashes. It was funny how often he left a mark, no matter where he went, simply because he couldn’t lift his feet up off the ground. And yet, he still felt invisible where it mattered most.
The pain wasn’t necessarily that he’d been pushing Dmitri away or that he had kept himself apart. It was that Dmitri hadn’t seen him—hadn’t seen the love he’d so poorly concealed from everyone else. And if he had seen, maybe he had ignored it to spare Raphael’s feelings.
“Should I let you go?” Santiago asked.
Raphael wanted to say no, to steal another moment where someone else was holding him up, but he knew it wasn’t fair. He squeezed Santiago’s shoulders, then took a careful step back. “I think so.”
“Luca left your crutches behind you. With your boyfriend.”
The words hit him like a punch to the gut, because Raphael knew what had to come next. He’d turn his head and see Rian watching him—and maybe he’d be smiling. And maybe he’d be a little jealous because Raphael had told him he didn’t want to dance before. But maybe he’d just understand, because that’s the kind of person he was. And God, he deserved better.
“Thank you,” Raphael said, and he stepped back again, until his hip touched a chair. He took it and then turned to see Rian watching him with hooded eyes, and he braced himself against the words he had to speak. “We should go somewhere to talk.”
Rian’s gaze darted to the food on the plates—mostly vegetables, some meat, and a single cake he knew was from Wilder’s bakery that had been prepared by Dmitri specifically for him. “Um. Yeah, I guess so.”
Raphael picked up his crutches and started out ahead, and he didn’t need to look back to know that Rian was following him.
* * *
Raphael appreciatedthat Rian hung back far enough he was able to lead them out of the conference room. He took a right, choosing the darkened hallway where no one was likely to be hanging out, because he didn’t want an audience for the moment he was going to hurt this man who didn’t deserve it.
His palms started to sweat on his crutch handles, and the stress was making his legs spasm a little, so each step was harder than the next. He managed to find a dark corner, and he braced himself against the wall as Rian walked up with his hands in his pockets. Raphael eased his grip on the foam covers of his crutches to help soften the ache in his knuckles, and he found he was just coward enough not to look him in the eye as he stopped.
“Is this the “it’s not you, it’s me” talk?” Rian asked.
“Is it so bad when it’s the truth?” Raphael countered, because in this case, it was.
Rian let out a little sigh and leaned his shoulder against the side of the wall. “Is it that guy? Santiago?”
For a moment, Raphael wanted to let that lie and say yes. It would be so much easier. “It’s not about anyone else.”
Rian scoffed. “You don’t let me hold you. I’ve kissed you less than a handful of times. We’ve slept in the same bed, but you’ve never let yourself touch me more than you have to. And you told me you were in love with someone else.” Rian stepped closer, his hand out like he wanted to touch, but he curled his fingers instead and pulled them back. “I can still be patient. I just want to know who I’m competing against.”
