Forty-One Ramin
forty-one
Ramin
Ramin managed—barely—to wait until the afternoon before calling his friends back home. He hoped he didn’t wake them. But even if he did, this was kind of an emergency. They’d understand.
Arya answered the call first, nestled in rumpled gray pillows and bedding. Ramin didn’t recognize what glimpses of the bedroom he could make out. It wouldn’t be the first time Arya had taken a call from some random man’s bed, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, either.
“Hey, Ramin. You okay?” He brushed the sleep out of his eyes. “What time is it?”
A muffled voice out of view said, “A little after eight.”
“Not you, I’m on the phone,” Arya said, looking to his left. “It’s my friend, sorry, I’ve gotta take this.”
The background whipped around, though Arya’s head stayed more or less stationary, as Arya got out of bed shirtless. Probably naked on the bottom too, but thankfully Ramin couldn’t see. He’d never actually seen Farzan or Arya naked, and he had no desire to start now.
“Okay, sorry,” Arya said as he settled in an unfamiliar living room. “Everything okay? Oh, is that Farzan?”
Sure enough, Farzan popped up. Unlike Arya, he was dressed. Ramin recognized the Final Fantasy posters and filing cabinets of Farzan’s office at Shiraz Bistro.
“Sorry, I was grinding spices. Didn’t hear the phone. What’d I miss?”
“Nothing yet,” Arya said. “What’s up, Ramin?”
“What about David?”
“He’s out with his mom, he probably won’t answer,” Farzan said. “Everything okay? It’s early. Well, for us.”
“I know,” Ramin said.
Now that the moment was here, he hesitated. A cold fist closed around his heart.
About a year and a half ago, he’d been out at brunch with his friends when he told them he loved Todd. They’d been happy for him, excited and supportive. But it turned out they’d seen the red flags long before he did.
What if Noah had red flags Ramin couldn’t see? What if two years from now they were saying Fucking Noah over glasses of wine?
Ramin shook the thought away. This was different. He was different.
And he was tired of waiting.
“I’m in love,” Ramin blurted out. “With Noah.”
Farzan and Arya both went so still, so quiet, Ramin thought the connection had frozen. At least until a pair of naked legs passed right behind Arya’s head, dick flapping in the wind.
“Guys?” he asked.
Farzan chuckled. “It took you long enough.”
“What?” Ramin sputtered. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Dude.” Arya glanced away for a second. “No thanks, I don’t drink caffeine.” He turned back. “We’re your best friends. We know.”
“How did you know? I didn’t know.”
Farzan ran a hand through his hair. “That’s because you were too busy telling yourself you were too boring to love.”
Ramin chuckled. Who needed tiny devil Arya and tiny angel Farzan when he had the real thing?
“Well, I was going through something. But I don’t think that anymore.”
“Good,” Arya said. “We love you.”
“Have you told him?” Farzan asked.
“No, not yet. Things have been… complicated.”
Ramin filled them in on everything while Farzan stepped into the kitchen to make tea. Arya turned off his camera for a bit; when it came back on, he was fully dressed and walking down Summit Street; Ramin recognized one of their favorite brunch spots over his shoulder.
“Sorry about that.” Arya gestured over his shoulder. “I can’t believe he showed you guys his dick.”
Ramin snorted. “So, anyway. I guess I’m just waiting to see him in person again to tell him. I don’t want to just, like, text him.”
Farzan sipped his tea and nodded. “When’s he coming back?”
“That’s just it. I don’t know.” Ramin scratched at his chest. “Part of me wants to just hop on a train to Turin and go find him.”
He knew that was ridiculous. He didn’t know what hospital Jake was at. Or how long he was even going to be there. How long did it take to recover from an appendectomy? What if Noah and his family were already on their way back? Or what if they were driving?
“Don’t,” Arya said. “I know you love him, but you need to let him come back and apologize.”
“I don’t want him to apologize,” Ramin said. “I get why he left. I get why he panicked.”
Ramin had dealt with enough medical shit in his life to know sometimes all you could focus on was getting to that hospital.
“Still,” Farzan said. “Maybe at least talk to him before you go making any travel plans?”
“You’re right.” Ramin let out a low breath. He was like a wrung-out sponge. “Anyway. Enough about me. What’s new with you guys?”
“Hm. Well, David’s friend Rhett’s coming to visit next week. And he’s bringing Titus with him.”
“Is that—” Arya began.
“The world’s ugliest dog, yeah.”
Ramin laughed and settled onto his couch to let his friends catch him up.
He’d figure out what to do about Noah after.
The next morning, Ramin finally worked up the nerve to text Noah.
Ramin
How’s Jake doing?
Noah
Better thanks.
He’s out of the hospital. Nonna came to drive us all back.
Ramin
I’m glad!
Can we talk when you get back?
Noah
Absolutely
See you this afternoon?
Ramin
Great!
Ramin stared at his texts. Did he sound weird? How were you supposed to text when you loved someone but hadn’t told them yet, but also didn’t want to stress them out, but also didn’t want them to think you didn’t care about how their son was doing?
And was it just him or did Noah sound kind of odd, too?
But whatever. He needed to stop being nervous. He loved Noah. And he thought—well, hoped—Noah loved him, too. That they could figure this thing out.
Meanwhile, his fridge was running low. He grabbed his shoes and headed for the grocery store.
Upon reflection, Ramin probably didn’t need to buy six bottles of wine.
But everything at the store was so cheap, and he kept finding things he wanted to try, more Grignolinos from Piedmont, Verdicchios from Marche, Cesaneses from Lazio.
Table wines, to have with dinner, to drink and watch the sunset, to explore the world of Italian wine or maybe—just maybe—to share with Noah.
They couldn’t all be Ornellaia, after all. Ramin would go broke.
He’d just finished putting the groceries away—he might’ve gone overboard on cheeses to try, too—when his phone rang.
He grabbed it, expecting to see Noah’s photo pop up to tell him he’d returned to Milan. Or maybe someone from work, who’d forgotten he was out of the country. Or hell, even another one of those annoying SPAM RISK calls.
It wasn’t any of those, though.
It was Todd.
“Hello?”
Todd’s bearded face popped up, though he was a bit patchy at the corners of his mouth. Ramin recognized the collar of one of his neon-blue gym shirts, stained with sweat. Todd must’ve just gotten back from a workout. “Hey, Ramin. How are you?”
The greeting was casual, but his voice sounded conspicuously deeper. Todd used to use that same register while he whispered dirty nothings into Ramin’s ear. What was he doing with it now?
“Uh. Fine. You?”
“I’m good.” He licked his lips. “I’m good.”
“Cool.” Ramin didn’t know what else to say. Once upon a time, looking at Todd’s face had been one of his favorite things. But that was the past. “Did you need something else from the house? Farzan or Arya can—”
“No!” Todd’s voice was so emphatic, Ramin nearly dropped his phone.
But now he was quiet. He ran a hand through his hair, fixed his beard.
And then: “I miss you.”
Ramin was so surprised, he did drop the phone. “Sorry. Uh. Say again?”
Surely he’d heard Todd wrong.
“I miss you.”
Okay, he’d heard right, but what the actual fuck? Ramin glanced at the wine bottles lined up on the counter. Maybe he should open one for this.
“You miss me?” he repeated.
“I hate how things ended between us.”
“You ended them,” Ramin reminded him, keeping his voice even. A statement of fact, not an accusation.
“I know. I just… I was feeling insecure and, I don’t know, trapped, and I projected a lot of that onto you. And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Trapped? By me?” What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Ramin had never done anything but support Todd. Listen to him. Give him space to live his own life, even as they tried to build a life together.
Once, Ramin would’ve wondered if he was wrong, if he’d been suffocating Todd and not realizing it, but no. He could see himself clearly, more clearly than he had in a long time.
He’d been a fucking great partner.
Todd frowned. His forehead turned ruddy.
“Trapped by turning forty soon,” Todd said.
“I guess I just didn’t expect my life to be going this way.
And then you jetted off to Italy, and you’re having adventures there, and I realized it wasn’t you.
It was me. I was the one who was boring.
I’m sorry. And I was thinking… maybe we could give this thing another chance?
I could even come join you there. We could go clubbing together. ”
“Cl—” Ramin sputtered.
Todd. Wanted to come to Italy. To go clubbing. With him.
He’d dumped Ramin in the middle of a restaurant, told him he was too boring to marry, and now he wanted to go clubbing .
Fucking Todd.
Ramin cleared his throat. “Hey. You remember Legally Blonde ?”
“I’m a gay millennial. Of course I do.”
“You remember how you dumped me in the middle of a restaurant?”
Todd’s flush grew darker. “Of course I… oh.”
Ramin saw the lightbulb go off.
If Ramin was Elle, then Todd was Warner. And there was no way Ramin was getting back with such a complete bonehead.
“I guess I deserve that.”
Ramin didn’t argue.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I do want you to be happy. I hope you know that.”
“I want you to be happy, too,” Ramin said. And to his surprise, he found he meant it. He wanted Todd to have a good life. Just not with him. “I better let you go.”
He set his phone down and stared at the dark screen, his heart hammering like he’d just climbed another lighthouse. He thought he might feel relief. Or sadness. Or vindication. But all he felt was impatience. Todd was his past. And Noah was his future.
So when would—
Knock. Knock-knock.
Ramin frowned. No one knocked on his door. No one could even get in the gates without a key. Maybe Paola and Francesca needed something.
He shook his head, fumbled with the twelve different locks, pulled the door open—
And froze.
It couldn’t be.
“Noah?”