Page 17 of Someone Like You

“I hope you’re hungry, Ian, because there’s ano leftoverspolicy in this house.” Abigail exchanged a glance with Phil.

“If I wasn’t hungry before, I sure as hell am now.”

They moved to a small dining room where the table was already set. A sample of the flowers Ian had brought sat in a crystal vase at the centre of it, along with a couple of bottles of wine, a bottle of Pepsi, and a jug of water. Save for restaurants, Ian had never sat at a table with real linen, let alone with floral decoration.

“We don’t eat like this, normally,” Phil conveyed, reading right through him. “Someone’s middle name isOverkill.”

Abigail laid down the casserole and stood back with her hands on her hips to admire the general presentation. “It’s just nice to be a wee bit fancy sometimes. We don’t have guests every day.”

Her tone was breezy, but it put a heavy hunch in Phil’s back as he sat himself down.

The dinner was as pleasant as the food was good, and the company was even better. Abigail was a formidable woman, sunny and bristling with energy, and unapologetically proud of her successful career in the world of finance.

“I was only twenty-five when I was transferred to Chicago. It’s good to be home.” She stretched out a hand at her side to lay it on top of Phil’s. The pea-sized diamond shining on her finger put a bitter taste in Ian’s mouth. “My only issue is the trips out of town, but knowing Phil can hang out with you if he feels lonely is such a relief!”

“Phil doesn’t feellonely,” Phil gritted through his teeth, but half of the comment got swallowed by a phone going off somewhere in the flat.

“You know what I meant,” said Abigail, pressing a kiss to his cheek before shuffling out of the room.

Ian cleared his throat. “Bit much, don’t you think?”

Phil sighed, facing the other way. Half of his food, which had been a meagre portion to begin with, was still on the plate, untouched.

“So we’ll be hanging out while she’s away?” Ian pressed on sardonically. “Remind me again what our plans are? I must’ve forgotten.”

Phil shot him a sideway glare. “It’s just a little white lie to let her get on with her life.”

“I don’t like lies.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” Phil snapped, then his voice dropped to a contrite murmur. “I just don’t want her to fret every time she has to leave because she thinks I’ll be rotting in bed or worse.”

“Is that a legitimate concern?”

“Some days are harder than others, some are better. It’s just that my idea ofbetterdoesn’t coincide with Abby’s idea.” Phil blew out some air through his nose, as if squeezed from the inside. “Wherever she goes, she’s the life of the party,” he said. “She thrives when she’s surrounded by people andactivity. I’m pretty much the opposite. She respects it — always has —, she just… doesn’t get it. And this means that whenever I seek isolation, she worries it’s getting bad again and I might do something stupid, when all I need is just… a breather.”

Ian understood the sentiment down to the very bottom of his soul, but could also understand Abigail’s apprehension.

“She cares about you.”

“I know,” Phil cut him off. He rubbed the side of his neck, head hanging helplessly. “I’ve been such a dick to her so many times and she’s still—” His cracking voice forced him to stop and take a breath. Ian felt for him. He’d have never imagined that so much strength and so much fragility could coexist in the same person. “She’s engaged to someone who’s a ghost of the man she said yes to.” Phil’s eyes were vacantly fixed on the table, lost somewhere distant. “I wish she would just… move on without me.”

Ian could read between the lines:‘She deserves better, but I’m not selfless enough to leave her.’

It took an awful lot of guts to admit that, if just implicitly. That wasn’t something you could say in the face of the woman you loved, not when she was so determined to stand by you no matter what. Abigail was a rare kind of person: loyal through and through, and not out of guilt or responsibility, as Phil believed.

“I’ve known that woman for two hours,” Ian stated, “and can tell that she loves you to the moon and back.”

“Yeah, and because of that she’s stuck with a loser who hasn’t touched her in over a year.”

Abby’s laugh resonated in the flat, muffled and distant. A laugh full of joy that didn’t belong to someone who was unhappy with their life. And yet the sound of it shrouded Phil with sadness, adding further weight to the invisible burden hunching his shoulders. Ian didn’t know how they’d got to this level of intimacy, but Phil baring his most vulnerable side to him toppled something inside him. Seeing Phil like this ignited a fierce instinct he’d ever felt before — not for humans, anyway. An urge to comfort. To embrace andprotect.

He poured himself some wine, hoping it’d wash away the bittersweet constriction in his chest. “Have you considered,” he said after a swig, “that you might be more important than sex to her?”

Phil’s sombre expression said that, yes, he’d considered it, and it wasn’t a consolation. The very opposite, in fact.

“This is not what she signed up for.”

“And yet she’s still here, meaning she accepted the update to the terms and conditions.”

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