Illias shrugged, flipping to the next page. “Just curious I guess.”
“Curious? Or wondering how to tell if you like someone?” She said the wordlikein a way that made Illias stomach knot. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Illias closed the photo album and sat it on top of the stack he got it from. “There’s this guy that I’ve been seeing”—sneaking around with—“and he’s got this…job”—he’s our priest—“that kinda gets in the way of us seeing each other. I didn’t think that I liked him at first, but the longer we talk and see each other, the more I think I want to be with him.”That I might want more.
“How long have you two been seeing each other?”
Since I got back to Dunwich basically.“I don’t know, a while.”
“It can be hard to figure out exactly how you feel about someone. It’s not easy discerning between lust and love. But…” She looked down at the photo she was holding. “If you’re willing to sit down and share a meal with them without the expectation of anything else because time with them is sweeter than life, then”—she looked back at him, her smile a little sweeter and eyes a little brighter— “you’ve got your answer.”
Illias nodded, trying to make sense of what she said. Sure, the most content he’d been was after his and Cantrell’s scene, when they were just lying on the couch talking. And maybe he did want to experience that kind of tender closeness again without anything happening. Certainly, that didn’t really mean anything though. Illias could have that closeness with anyone. His stomach rolled at the idea of anyone but Cantrell seeing him like that. Vulnerable. Soft.
The door popped open, distracting Illias from his thoughts. Henry walked into the living room, pausing by the door to heel off his shoes. “Hey honey,” he greeted Illias’ mom first, then regarded him. “Illias, nice to see you.”
An ugliness reared its head inside Illias that he held back, not wanting to ruin the facade of peace between them. “How’re you?” Illias asked.
“Tired, but that’s normal these days I’m afraid.” He hung his shoulder bag on the hooks next to the door. “How about yourself?”
“Same as always.”
The stiff, unnatural flow of the conversation made it clear neither of them knew how to navigate around the other. There was too much left unspoken between them. Illias wondered if it would always be this way, never truly feeling at ease with the other. Knowing there was no undoing what had transpired between them, no taking back the harsh words both hurled at one another.
Illias’ mom clapped her hands, drawing both men’s attention to her. “I am going to start on dinner. Hon, are you able to join us?”
“Not tonight,” Illias answered. “I’ve got to get down to Saint Anthony’s before it gets dark. I’ve got one more bed to make for the garden.”
“That’s fine, hon.” She stood. “Don’t worry about cleaning up, I’ll handle it.”
Illias got to his feet and gave her a hug. “I’ll call you.”
“Sounds good. I’m glad you came over today. Drive safe.”
“I’ll see you out,” Henry offered, then opened the door.
Illias slipped on his shoes while he wished his mom a goodnight. As he walked out the door, Henry followed behind. “Before you head out, can we have a quick talk?”
“Make it quick,” Illias said with a small sigh.
“I wanted to apologize again. For how awful I treated both you and Lauren.” Henry held up a hand when Illias opened his mouth. “I know that doesn’t make up for anything. It most likely never will, but…” He lowered his hand and sighed. “We need to find a way to make things work. For her.”
Illias froze. Every fiber of his being wanted to leave. To ignore the confrontation. Pretend that everything was fine. “I know,” he said, caught between frustration and remorse. “I just…” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I need time.”
“Of course." Henry looked like he was about to reach towards Illias but he crossed his arms instead. “Whenever you’re ready. I’ll be here. I know I haven’t been the best person to talk to, but I’m trying to change that. I don’t want to be the reason why we aren’t a family anymore.”
Pressure built in the back of Illias’ skull and his body grew warm. An instinctual need to run and hide flooded his body. He repressed it, thinking about what Charity said on the phone, and swallowed past the growing lump in his throat. “I don’t either,” he admitted. “I know my temper hasn’t been the best, still isn’t really, and that hasn’t helped.”
“Like Lauren said, you get it from me,” Henry joked dryly.
“Wild, since I’m not even your kid.” Illias shifted his weight, thinking of what to say next. “Speaking of, I know I wasn’t an easy kid—”
“What kid is easy?” Henry interjected with a huff. “Kids aren’t meant to be easy, they’re kids. But I…” Henry took a deep breath through his nose and looked out across the yard. “I didn’t act like a father, so I don’t expect you to forgive me. Especially not after what I said to you.” A small, humorless laugh left Henry. “You’ve got one Hell of a right hook by the way,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Illias stared at his feet while he rubbed the back of his neck. “About that, I’m—”
“Don’t,” Henry said firmly. “I deserved it.”
Illias looked up, shocked and confused.
