Page 36 of Someone Like You

She didn’t seem angry. Concerned, if anything. Ian couldn’t figure out what the core of this conversation was. It sounded like Abigail was reprimanding him, not for seducing her fiancé, but for pushing him away.

“There was nothing I could do without hurting him to some extent,” he said warily.

A crushing weight set on his shoulders, forcing him to lean his elbows on his knees.

He passed a hand over his face, something between a groan and a sigh heaving out of him.

“I’m not proud of it, but it was the right thing to do.

” He sought Abigail’s eyes and found them already pinned on him, watchful and calculating.

“I know your guilt,” she said, sorrow seeping into her expression. “I’ve hurt him, too.”

“ You ?”

“Phil’s burnout was partially my fault.”

“Don’t be daft.”

“It was.” Abigail took a sip of her tea, then her lips pursed. “We met in the period when his popularity was taking off. I naively assumed it was the abrupt change in his lifestyle to cause him all that stress… But it was also our relationship.”

“He says his life got better the day he met you.”

Abigail smiled. “That might be true, but… I’m sure you’ve noticed Phil has his own way of tackling life: he adapts to the environment around him to survive.

” Ian nodded, although he hadn’t witnessed much of that adaptation personally, as knowing Ph il’s aversion for crowds and noise he’d always tried to keep him away from all of that.

Save for the pub, but he’d been ready to fight the noisy guys for him.

He’d never forget Phil’s relief when he’d silenced them.

“His world shifted significantly when we got together and I think he unconsciously gave up too much of himself to be the man he thought he should be for me.” Another sip.

Abigail looked sad. “The never-ending effort took a toll on him before I had a chance to realise what was really happening. And now here we are, trying to start over.” She swirled the tea around the cup.

“Two months in Glasgow with barely any improvement, then Phil meets you…” A pause punctuated by a sharp look. “And things magically change.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Ian objected. He still felt like he was under some sort of evaluating scrutiny, he just didn’t know what he was being evaluated for.

“You were a stranger,” said Abigail. “A clean slate. He didn’t owe you anything.” She held the cup between her hands, resting it on her lap. “He didn’t feel like he had to adapt with you, so he was just… himself. A chameleon without any predator to hide from, if you will.”

“And you have no problem with that?”

“Are you asking if I’m jealous?” Abigail was a difficult woman to read through.

She spoke directly, no beating around the bush, with the relaxation of someone who was too confident to be afraid of confrontation.

Her eyes narrowed imperceptibly. “If Phil needed a kidney and I couldn’t give him one, how do you think I’d feel towards a compatible donor? ”

The question smacked the entirety of the story into a whole different perspective. Mental illness was still an illness, potentially terminal to many. If you loved someone enough, a cure, especially a life-saving one, was a blessing, no matter who it came from.

“You restored him, Ian.” Warmth. Gratitude. The most beautiful smile Ian had ever seen. “No wonder he fell in love with you. ”

All of Ian’s predictions about this meeting were crumbling down one by one and he could only watch and fumble, trying to predict Abigail’s next move, which was never what he was expecting.

“I never wanted to get in the way,” he said, like an apology — an unsolicited one, because nothing in Abigail’s behaviour indicated that she blamed him in any way. Ian wasn’t really sure what they were here for.

“Alright, just to be clear.” Abigail set the now empty cup down on its saucer. “I’m not here to berate you. You didn’t ‘get in the way’ . I appreciate you walking away from Phil out of respect for me, but that’s not going to work for any of us.”

It took a moment to click.

“ Any of us?”

“He wants us both and thinks he has to give up one of us in order to keep the other.” Abigail’s head tilted, dark hair cascading over her shoulder. “The question is: do we want to force him to pick?”

We.

Us both.

She was talking like Ian was part and parcel of the picture. He still couldn’t put his finger on where this was headed, because if he was getting this right, it was just too good to be true.

“Are you sayin’ what I think you’re sayin’?”

Abigail simply asked: “Do you love him?”

“We wouldn’t be here if you didn’t think I did.”

“I want a straight answer. Forgive the irony.”

A warm wave rippled within Ian’s chest. Brilliant sense of humour. Brilliant woman. His admiration for her couldn’t possibly spike any higher than this.

“I do,” he declared without hesitation. Guilt couldn’t taint this sentiment. Feelings couldn’t be accountable. Only the actions they spurred could be, and he was clean on the front. “I love him.” How could I not love him?

That must be what Abigail wanted to hear. “And he loves you, ” she said, her all-business countenance waning into open friendliness. “ Keeping him away from you wouldn’t change how he feels and definitely wouldn’t do his mental health any favour.”

Ian wanted something to drink now. Something strong, like his usual caffé corretto , but without the coffee. He wanted Sandra’s whole grappa selection.

“You’re the one for him. I’m just—”

“Who says it has to be the one ?” Abigail interjected. “Why can’t it be the two ?”

Ian’s heart stopped. She was saying what he thought she was saying. In all nonchalance, as if it was just a dinner invitation, Abigail was putting an offer to the table that it was impossible to refuse.

“You’d do that for him?”

“Oh, Ian…” Abigail smiled affably. “I’d burn down the world and every person in it if that could make his life just a little easier. On second thought, it probably would .”

Ian chuckled at that, knowing how true that was. “You bring the petrol, I’ll bring the matches.”

“Glad to see we’re on the same page.” Abigail’s smile grew broader and brighter. She reached out to take his hands into her own, her touch warm and eager. “Phil needs us — both of us .” An emphatic squeeze. “I’d be happy to know he’s safe in your arms when I’m away.”

Ian didn’t know what to say. All he wanted, all he could ever ask for, had just gone from an impossible dream to a possibility within reach, his to take.

The scene Abigail’s words had painted could become reality: Phil, safe in his arms, without losing the woman he loved so much.

It hadn’t even crossed Ian’s mind that this could be an option.

“So…” Abigail tilted her head. “Do you think you and I could be co -partners?”

“You really are one of a kind,” Ian commented, still not quite able to process what was happening.

“I’ll take that as a yes. ”

“If we do this — if he becomes our partner — what would that make us? You and me.”

“Good friends, I hope.”

Friends...

It sounded much less absurd than it should have.

Ian buried his face into his hands for a moment, trying to sort out the messy heap of thoughts and feelings buzzing in his head.

“What does Phil say about this?”

“He doesn’t know yet, doesn’t even know I’m here.

I was sick of all that pining.” Abigail rolled her eyes with a funny grimace.

“I told him you two needed to get your shit together, for better or for worse, but I had to clarify a few things with you first. What happens next, to all of us, is entirely your call. Tell him yourself.”

Ian didn’t need to think about it. “How’s this going to work?”

“How about we keep going as we always have?” Abigail proposed.

“Let things flow spontaneously. And perhaps, if you don’t mind, we could spend more time together, all three of us.

It’d mean the world to him.” She must’ve pondered this quite thoroughly: she had all the answers ready, not a hint of doubt. “What do you say?”

“Not many partners would’ve offered what you’re offering me,” Ian mused out loud, absently stroking the bracelet around his wrist.

Abigail beamed. “There’s nothing I can do about grapefruit, but I can let him have you.”

“What?”

“Never mind. So are you in? Think we could be a family?”

They could . It was crazy, but they could actually make this work. He could see it, could easily imagine it. He couldn’t wait to live it.

He chuckled to himself.

“Can’t wait to explain this one to my da.”

* * *

He parked the pick-up in the first free spot he found along the street, walking the last bit under a light rain that grew heavier along the way. It was dark already, too late to bother Phil. It’d have to wait until tomorrow.

‘Tell him yourself,’ Abigail had said, and Ian had been burning with impatience since. Maybe Phil wouldn’t even be on board with Abigail’s solution, but they had a possibility now and that was more than Ian could’ve hoped for.

He turned the corner, fishing the keys out of his pocket. Looking up, he found a hooded figure sitting on his steps.

“Handsome?”

The figure’s head darted up and turned in his direction. Under the hood, Phil’s eyes were more tired than usual.

“You alright?”

Phil’s expression changed to fussy vexation. “No, I’m cold as fuck! Where the hell have you been?” He pushed to his feet to stare Ian down.

Ian put on his best poker face. “You’re the one obstructing my doorway, I should be the one asking questions.”

“Can we talk?”

“That’s another question.”

The jab drew a groan of exasperation out of Phil, who deliberately chose to bypass it.

“I told Abby.”

“Of course you did.” As if there had ever been another option. Phil’s honesty was one of the reasons Ian liked him so much, after all.

“She’s the one who said you and I needed to talk this out, so, unless you wanna be a jerk and deny a broken man some closure, we’re gonna talk.

” He released a big breath, like someone who’d just discarded a boulder off his chest, and scrutinised Ian expectantly with that puppy-dog look that had the power to annihilate all of Ian’s defences.

“Abby’s okay with my feelings for you. She understands it wasn’t a choice. But I still don’t know how you feel about me .”

“You do,” Ian argued. How could he not know ?

“No. I don’t.” A prickly frown darkened Phil’s face.

“I told you I loved you and you hit me back with a bunch of righteous rambling about not wanting to do anything behind Abby’s back and stuff like that.

Well, now the cat’s out of the bag, so, if you don’t feel the same, you either spell it out for me and let me move the fuck on, or we—”

“Jesus Christ, you’re such a drama queen.”

Phil gave Ian an irked shove, his frown deepening.

“I’m not leaving until I hear it.” A flash of terror glimmered in his eyes, immediately swept away by brittle but stubborn pride.

“Say it: ‘Phil, I don’t love you’ . Say it and I won’t bother you again.

I’ll walk out of your life and you’ll never have to—”

Ian clasped a hand over his mouth. “Fuckin’ hell, Phil,” he puffed out in a soft laugh. “ I love you . Stop whinin’.”

Time stilled. The display in Phil’s expression whispered ‘You do?’ , incredulous and emotional.

“Why—” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Why couldn’t you just say it back when I told you?”

There were too many answers to that question.

Because you shouldn’t have said it in the first place.

Because it would’ve made everything harder for the both of us.

Because I couldn’t have walked away from you if I’d admitted that.

But none of them mattered any more.

A lopsided smirk tugged at Ian’s lips. “I didn’t have Abigail’s blessing back then.”

Phil paled, jaw hanging slack. The puppy-dog look became a bizarre blend of disbelief, excitement, and hope. Ian pinched his bristly chin between his fingers, grinning wide.

“Let’s go inside before you freeze, you daft bastard.”