Page 116 of The New Place

“Before I came to Callahan,” Abbot says and this is beside the matter entirely. “Ned, you are everything I could want.”

“Paris, Abbot. Your boyfriend lived in Paris, and I live here.”

“Why does that matter?”

“Why?” Ned asks.

“I didn’t like Paris. I like you.”

“Thanks, but I hear Paris is pretty great.”

“It’s…” Dirty. Crowded. Full of tourists.

Full of the French.

“It’s a city. Ned, I love you. You’re worth Newbury over and over again.”

“Am I worth talking to?”

“Ned—”

“What were you doing in Geneva?”

“Working.”

“And then you went to Callahan?”

“Do you hear what I’m trying to tell you?”

“Do you?” Ned asks. “Why have we been together since last year and I never knew you moved home between your doctorate and Maine? I think—Abbot, these other men you’re not talking about? I think that worked really well for you, actually. I think you hate that I want to know about you.”

“No, I don’t, I…” Abbot has an end to that sentence, he’s sure, but has no idea at all what it might be.

“It feels like shit that you won’t talk to me,” Ned finally says. “It’s terrifying. I don’t feel like I belong at Newbury, or in Paris, or wearing a watch like that one, or letting Peggy even hold this one, or that you even really want a deeper relationship with me.”

“Of course I do, Ned. That’s not⁠—”

“Then talk.”

Abbot draws back, but his shoulder bumps the wall and there’s nowhere to go. Of course he can’t say anything. Ned would be more frustrated with him than he already is. Those years Ned is so curious about? Those were the worst version of Abbot, and not one Ned needs to know.

“Go ahead.” Ned waves his hand and the watch sits in it, the band swinging delicately through the air.

Abbot has a sudden urge to put a hand up, like he can stop it from striking him.

But Ned just waits in the beat of silence. Then he stands, setting the watches in the drawer his ring was in, replacing that too. He shuts it gently and then leans against his desk.

“Okay,” he says. He sounds defeated.

“Ned…”

“No. Okay. That’s—that’s fine. You can’t. Or won’t. Whichever. I’ll just—I’ll live with that, I guess.”

“Ned…” Abbot hears his voice crack. “Please don’t be upset.”

“What do you want me to be?” Ned asks. “Happy?”

“I want—yes. I want you to be happy. Us to be happy, together.”