The shudder was unstoppable despite knowing that Zachary was teasing and not confessing to anything. He did trust Zachary; it wasn’t that. Fuck, he was just such a mess.
“Oh God. I can’t even joke with you anymore.” Zachary dropped onto the sofa and took him in a hug.
Julian buried his head into Zachary’s neck, feeling fifty kinds of stupid. “I’m sorry. It’s just that this one-year business is making me unable to be normal about anything. I must be driving you bonkers.”
“No.” Zachary pulled back so he could see Julian but kept his grip in place on his shoulders. “I’m sorry, that was a really stupid joke—I can only blame the late hour. Jules, you can tell me anything. That way I can too. This—” He indicated their almost embraced bodies. “—is our safe place, remember?”
Julian nodded.
“Now, no more worrying about silly dates on a calendar, and just trust me, okay?” Zachary asked.
Julian inhaled. Zachary had asked that before. He wished with all his might he could just answer yes and not feel that numbing fear. This time he got as far as answering yes. It really would be a long week.
The fateful day started like all others, a quick breakfast and dash to the office—address the defendant’s gazillionth motion, lunch on the fly, and more paperwork. Julian read Brian’s opening statement and offered editorial suggestions between sips of black coffee. Zachary produced precedent cases and prepared briefs. Between them not much was missed, and around the office, the joke had become that they were the dynamic duo. Nothing special was planned for the evening and that pleased Julian. Just a normal day.
As the sun’s rays waned, Brian’s office glowed a soft pink, warming Julian and Zachary as they stood together looking out the window, taking a few minutes break when they found themselves alone. A sudden tickle to his belly made Julian nearly jump.
“Zach?”
“What?”
“What are you doing?”
Zachary wiggled his hand lower. “Um. Trying to get in your pants?”
Julian’s hips instinctively jerked closer even as he balked. “No time. Brian’s coming back…. Mm.”
Zachary smiled and Julian was lost. It didn’t take much to distract Julian. Soft lips nibbled at his ear, causing Julian to outright giggle as the heat pooled low in his gut. “You’re crazy.”
“’Bout you.”
Julian appreciated the open affection that Zachary always showed him. And he knew his boyfriend was pouring it on thicker than usual as Julian’s dumb insecurities took over. Touched, he glanced at the door, wondering if they’d have time to sneak in some kisses. One time, when they’d still been using the Ritz as a command center, it had gotten out of hand and they’d made out and dry humped until they’d creamed their pants like kids. Julian had blushed beet red and Zachary snickered like a teenager and Julian decided on the spot that a giddy Zachary was the single most adorable sight on the planet. Better than puppies. Or kittens. And Julian loved kittens. Remembering that, Julian pressed into Zachary, wondering if he could get him to come in his pants again.
The door burst open and they pulled apart like lightning had struck them.
Brian smirked. “Sorry. But I have some news.”
Julian knew he looked like a tomato. “No. We. I. Sorry.” He ducked his head and murmured, “Fuck” before shooting Zachary a dirty look for starting all this. Zachary tried for contrite, failed, and settled for a Mona Lisa grin.
“What’s up?” Zachary asked.
Brian’s smile widened as he paused for effect. “Peterson Pharmaceutical offered to settle.”
Julian gaped. “Really? I thought—They said they’d never—Wow.”
“Harrison gonna take it?” Zachary asked.
“Yes. It’s a done deal.”
“No liability, though?” Zachary posed it as a question, but it was clear he already knew the answer. Julian met Zachary’s eyes and held his gaze, understanding. It wasn’t about the money to Zachary. Peterson Pharmaceutical not having to admit to any wrongdoing felt like an empty victory.
Brian spoke sympathetically. “I know, Zach. I also wished… but this is good. Our clients might not have fared as well if we went to court. You never know with a jury. And even if we won, Peterson would have dragged this out for years. Those folks need help now.”
Concerned, Julian studied Zachary as he nodded with a forced neutral expression. It seemed like he didn’t want to be the rain cloud to Brian’s obvious sunshine. Stuffing his briefcase with file folders, Brian turned back to Zachary. “Hey kid, it’s good news, no late night for a change.” He turned to Julian. “Go on now, head on home.”
Julian smiled. “Yeah? Great.” He turned to Zachary, but Zachary looked away. “Thanks,” Julian said to Brian on both their behalf.
Aware of Zachary’s subdued mood, Brian didn’t say anything further and headed to leave. Zachary dashed after him, not looking at Julian. “Hey… I… I’ll walk out with you.” He grabbed his jacket and backpack.
Julian started to call out, but Zachary kept his back stiff and followed Brian out. Scrambling, Julian caught up to them as they all exited the building in silence. Brian offered a ride, but Zachary declined before Julian could reply.
As soon as they were alone, Zachary mumbled that he wanted some time alone. “Just need to shake off this feeling that we cut a murderer loose.” Julian started objecting, but Zachary interrupted again. “I know it’s irrational, but this town and its compromises are making my stomach roil right now. I’ll see you at home later, okay?”
Zachary’s long legs carried him away before Julian was able to utter any protest. He knew that Zachary wanted Peterson to assume responsibility, to admit to what they’d done wrong. The lost coldness in Zachary’s eyes was burrowing itself in Julian’s heart. It was more than just defeat or disappointment. There was a wildness there that shone with the need for escape.
He stuck his hands in his pockets and studied his shoes, shuffling slightly. He knew where Zachary was heading; since moving to Washington, DC, Zachary had gotten in the habit of chatting with Honest Abe. Maybe he should just let Zachary have his alone time, because if anyone understood the need for space, it was Julian. But today felt different. He set off in the direction Zachary had taken and headed for the metro station.
Staring up at the hunched-over figure near a top step of Lincoln’s massive memorial, Julian pulled out his cell phone to send a text.
How alone do you want to be?
Zachary spun his head but didn’t seem surprised to see Julian walking slowly up toward him.
“Am I intruding? Should I go?” Julian asked.
Julian tried to make out Zachary’s usually expressive eyes, but they were cloaked in shadows. “No. ’S okay. Just talking to Abe.”
“’Bout what?”
Zachary chuckled. “My existential crisis?”
“You wanted Peterson Pharmaceutical to admit liability.”
It wasn’t a question, so Zachary didn’t bother answering. After a moment he let the frustration rush out of him. “Jules, what am I doing? What am I doing with these people, studying law, living in this soulless town? What the hell am I doing? This just… it’s not me.”
Julian knew that the settlement without culpability was eating at Zachary. But sometimes it was about more than justice; sometimes practicality mattered too. “Zach, the settlement money. It’s huge for these people. I know that’s not the point to you, but they are in debt over their heads. Sure money doesn’t matter for those who died, but they had families. Kids. Now they can go to college. Build a life. That does mean something.”
Intellectually, Julian knew Zachary understood. But his expression looked like he was choking on something.
“I told you about my grandfather,” Zachary began. “Spent his life living the law. It was everything to him. His journals contained nothing but his thoughts about his cases. Not one personal word. At first I used to think it was dedication. A purpose, you know. And I though
t… if I had that kind of purpose….”
Julian moved a step closer, touched his arm lightly, but pulled away at Zachary’s rigidness. “But. He had your grandmother. His family.”
“Did he? I mean, yeah, technically he did, because, after all, my mom spoke of him as a good father. But ten volumes of writing and they don’t get mentioned even once?” Julian tried once more to approach, but Zachary was just too wound up. “Fuck, I just hate it here.” He pointed up to the giant statue. “This town is empty. It’s all grand words and huge ideas, and at its core, where it lives, it’s empty. I don’t want to be here anymore. I should just go home, back to Texas. Pack up and get back to what’s real and figure out—hell, I’m twenty-four-years old, and suddenly I feel like all I’ve been doing since moving here is wasting my time!”
Zachary’s face twisted in bitterness until he was almost unrecognizable. Déjà vu made Julian stumble once on the step he stood. A waste of my time. The shadows of Lincoln’s body suddenly seemed oppressive. Despite the screaming in his head, Julian’s words were no more than a breath. “You’re going to leave—”
Zachary started down the stairs, unaware of Julian’s shaken stance. “I’m not good company right now. You shouldn’ta followed me. I just need a break, okay?”
Unable to utter a sound through a frozen throat, Julian could only stare stupidly as Zachary went from a walk to a run down the gravel path away from the memorial. Away from Julian.
Stomach like lead, he lifted his ashen face up toward Abe. “It’s actually a first,” he told the unflinching visage. “All the others at least apologized when they said they were leaving me.” Swiping numbly at his watery eyes, he repeated Zachary’s final words, “Guess I was just a waste of time after all.”
After an indeterminate amount of time staring blankly at the Reflecting Pool, Julian texted Zachary.
You need space so I’m going to Gabe’s. Probably will crash there.
JULIAN HAD started with beer but had long since moved on to harder stuff. Gabe stared down at him as he lay sprawled inelegantly on Gabe’s sofa. “It’s buzzing again.”
After letting it go to voicemail, Julian listened to this latest message.
Jules, when I said I wanted to be alone, I didn’t mean you couldn’t come home.
Zachary had left a few messages, but Julian didn’t feel equipped to talk to him. He shot back a quick text saying again that he knew Zachary didn’t ask him to stay away, but that he was going to spend the night at Gabe’s because they’d been drinking. After that he powered down his phone. Zachary’s final, cold words kept replaying in his mind. Julian should have trusted his own judgment in the first place and not gotten involved in a relationship. It always went horribly wrong.
Swiping his long hair out of his eyes, Gabe let out a long sigh. “Fuck. You and Zach—I still can’t believe it. Been nothing but fine for the past year! Are you sure—”
“Yes. He looked right at me and told me he was moving back to Texas. Happy fucking anniversary.”
“Did you tell him about that? How your exes always—”
Julian shut his eyes. It hurt to think. “Yes.”
The cell phone that rang next couldn’t be Julian’s, so he looked up wearily from the sofa as Gabe’s stubbled jaw clenched into a grimace when he looked at the caller ID.
“You got nerve.” Gabe’s deeply spoken growl vibrated straight to Julian’s chest. His friend rose and started pacing like a caged animal.
A moment of silence as Gabe listened and then, “Yeah, but he doesn’t want to talk to you. Look, Imma say this slow and once. I fuckin’ warned you when I apologized about the whole fake boyfriend fiasco—I admit that was wrong, but I also told you Julie’s been through hell with shit men. Told you the only reason I agreed to that whole thing was Julian didn’t want to be hurt again and I’d do anything, fucking anything, for that kid. He doesn’t fuck around like other dudes. Doesn’t hook up and move on. He falls hard and deep, and when you assholes decide you had enough you leave him—Look, fuck off, okay. Go home to Texas or whatever and have a nice life and leave Jules the hell alone.”
Julian couldn’t help wondering what was happening on the other end of the conversation. “Don’t bother. Jules told me what you said about hating this town and moving home.”
Gabe’s nostrils flared dangerously. “Fuck you and your obligations! You think because you realized you can’t leave just the fuck now that’s reason to keep screwing around with Julian until you are ready to up and go? Boy, that just ain’t happenin’.”
Gabe hung up on him.
Shoving Julian’s legs up, Gabe plopped on the sofa next to him, patting Julian’s shoulder once and then dropping his hand briskly on his lap.
Julian ran the past year in his mind. The near misses and the ups and downs. The way Zachary filled a part of himself he hadn’t realized was missing. How could it just be over?
“Gabe, what’d he say?”
His friend turned wary blue eyes toward his and deliberated before answering. “Wanted to talk to you.”
Julian stared because it wasn’t like he didn’t already know that part. Gabe sighed. “Fine. He asked how you were and then asked what I meant about Texas. Then he mouthed off that that had been a private conversation. And then something about even if he wanted to return to Texas he had school. I hung up after that.” Squeezing Julian’s shoulder, Gabe softened his tone. “I’m sorry, cowboy. I gotta say I did not see this one coming. Shit, boy, you have the worst luck with men. And always after a year, right?”
Lying on the sofa, Julian curled to his side, his standard position for hiding. The quake in his stomach reminded him how much he’d been drinking. Why in hell did Gabe have to bring up how long he and Zach had been together when the alcohol was intended to blur that particular tidbit? His head felt mushy. He tucked his knees a little more toward his chest and clutched the sofa pillow tighter.
“Julie,” Gabe began softly. “Maybe the two of us are being too quick here. I mean, Zach seemed, I don’t know, off.” Swallowing down the dregs of his own whiskey, Gabe warned, “You know what they say about self-fulfilling prophesies.”
A tremor ran through Julian at that. Yeah, he knew about those. And he’d already been thinking that maybe everything that had happened to him was exactly that. He’d wanted to stop, be normal, trust Zachary.
Gabe tossed a blanket over him, squeezed his arm, told him that it would all be better in the morning and to go to sleep.
Zachary wasn’t at work the next morning, the first anniversary of their first date. Julian walked around the office and grabbed coffee, but Zachary still didn’t arrive.
By ten o’clock, he asked Brian.
“Took the day off,” Brian answered, puzzled that Julian hadn’t been aware of that. “Said there was something he was preparing for.”
Julian maintained his composure until he was out of Brian’s sight. Then he raced to the men’s room and locked himself in a stall. Even through his meltdown yesterday, there had been a part of him that had embraced Gabe’s words, that maybe it wasn’t as black-and-white as it seemed. But Zachary had stated outright that he’d wanted to leave town, which meant, whatever he was preparing, it likely involved that.
He sank down on the toilet seat lid and bit his forearm to keep any sound from coming out and rocked and wondered if drowning oneself in a toilet could be covered up because he didn’t want his family to have to bury him with that image in their minds.
Much later he came out and ran water over his eyes, knowing anyone who saw him would realize he’d been crying, but it was the best he could do. Clutching the edges of his desk, he opened the files in front of him and shoved everything that wasn’t related to Harrison, Kim, and Fowler as far and deep as he could.
The text message came in toward the end of the day.
We need to talk.
Julian shook so hard, he thought his teeth would fall out. If he hadn’t been sitting, he would have fallen down. Okay, he to
ld himself. He could do this. It would end with dignity. He wouldn’t beg, wouldn’t fall apart, wouldn’t make Zachary think that Julian couldn’t survive without him. He’d hear him out about needing to move back to Texas and quietly walk away, and maybe if he was really lucky, a car would hit him on the way home and put him out of everyone’s misery.
Another message came in. Meet me at the suite.
What? What suite?
Our suite.
Julian stared at this new message a long time. Finally, he typed back, Where?
You know where.
He only knew one suite, and they hadn’t worked there for months. Frustration ran through him. Fuck it. He grabbed his jacket and headed for home. He was too tired for these games. Zachary knew where they lived. If he wanted to talk to him, he’d have to come home. Besides putting off having his heart pulverized wasn’t the dumbest idea he ever had.
The apartment looked like he’d left it. Until he entered the bedroom and noticed the three-quarters-empty fifth of whiskey on Zachary’s nightstand.
His phone buzzed again. R u coming?
Seeing the liquor quelled some of his anger. Zach where are you?
Our suite. Don’t be mad. Pls. come.
Julian sank onto the bed. The world started to spin. It was their one-year anniversary. Could Zachary have booked them a room before he’d decided to leave Julian? But Julian had begged Zachary not to do anything, had asked him to just let the day pass. Of course, low-key wasn’t exactly in Zachary’s DNA. But the Ritz? Could he really have spent a month’s rent on one night?
His insane side chirped up. Could this be the ultimate letting-Julian-down-easy ploy? Seemed like there would be way cheaper places to dump him than the Ritz-Carlton’s Presidential Suite. Tyler did it in a dorm. David in their home. Spenser via phone. And all of them, collectively, meant nothing. He’d survive without Zachary.
But he wouldn’t really live.
He pulled his iPhone back out and typed, On my way.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood staring at the Presidential Suite door. His phone ringing made him jump. Before he could retrieve it, the door swung open, and Zachary stood holding his own cell, mouth open in a slight O.
The Music of Love Page 10