Free After Ben by Con Riley Page A

Theo regretted that their first meeting had gone badly. It had set the tone for the next fifteen years. He often wondered if things would have been different if he’d been able to act as a translator between the people who loved him. He would have mentioned the age gap before, only it hadn’t seemed necessary. After all, it was only nine years. They were a perfect match and blissfully happy. Surely that was all that mattered?
    Since meeting in Milan—Theo had been crossing a street, and Ben had almost run him over—they’d been inseparable. Ben had quickly arranged to carry out his business from the US, and the paperwork had been relatively straightforward. Surprisingly so. In fact, every aspect of their first year together had seemed charmed.
    But when Theo’s mom had returned the next day while Ben was out grocery shopping, she looked hurt.
    “Why didn’t you mention that your friend was so… mature, darling?”
    Theo blinked. Mature wouldn’t have been his first word choice.
    Neither would friend.
    “We’re very happy together, Mom.” Stretched out along the couch, he watched as she moved around their new apartment, emptying boxes and placing the contents thoughtfully on the built-in shelves and windowsills.
    She examined books as she unpacked before placing them along a shelf, stopping from time to time to sort them into alphabetical order. “Even so, he’s—” Theo watched her search for just the right descriptors, “—obviously much older than you, darling.”
    Theo disagreed.
    Ben was youthful in ways that he found so attractive. He was perpetually inquisitive, believing there was a story behind everything and everyone, refusing to stop his rapid-fire questions until he understood people from the inside out. They shared so many noisy evenings full of silly games and laughter with their friends.
    So many.
    But that all came later.
    When they had first started to live together, his mother’s presence was a downer, and his father didn’t alleviate the situation any, although Theo knew he meant well. He seemed compelled to discuss world events that Ben might recall of which Theo had no memory. They never understood, not for a single moment, that Ben was so much younger in spirit. He was energetic, enthusiastic, and obsessed with new technology. He was almost five feet ten inches of concentrated, wiry Italian passion, which could be tiring to live with sometimes, Theo remembered with a smile.
    Ben coasted through his forties, looking more handsome—like a movie star—with each passing birthday party, and Theo couldn’t believe his fucking luck.
    But a conversation about Ben’s positive qualities was impossible to even begin with his mom back then. She wouldn’t overtly say why she took issue with him, apart from the fact that Ben was older. That was her complete definition. It was all she saw. She didn’t see Ben as kind or gentle, or as warm-hearted and friendly. He was too old for her only boy, even when Theo was well into his thirties.
    It had been, Theo thought, a fucking shame.
    As it was, his mom had unpacked while Theo was laid up with his back problem, then later watched with her arms tightly crossed again as Ben rearranged her work, artfully making his display of travel souvenirs look inviting instead of regimented and ordered. Theo lay in a fog of pain, trying desperately to find the words to stop his partner’s actions, but nerves made Ben excitable, and he launched into a staccato description of the neighborhood stores, not leaving a gap for anyone else to contribute.
    This too was normal behavior for Ben. In a family as large and as loud as his, it was a case of speak fast or don’t even start. Theo’s first experience of Ben’s family had nearly left him in shock. So, Ben chatted enthusiastically about the store he had found that stocked delicious cheeses and olives, and how friendly the owner had been. He made friends so easily, instantly, but Theo’s mom had nothing to