Page 19 of Dad Next Door
He picked at the label on his bottle. “I’ve never understood how we can live in a world where people have to supplement their full-time income just to survive.”
“I don’t get it either. I’ve been in their place, and it sucks. Stressing about if you’ll be able to pay your rent, always doing the mental math and praying your card doesn’t get declined when you’re buying groceries. Having to choose which bills you pay and which you let lapse so you get stuck in an endless cycle of interest and overdraft charges that make it impossible to get out of debt. It’s not an easy life.”
“I can only imagine how difficult that is. I’ve never been in that position.” He dropped his gaze, like he was ashamed he hadn’t had to struggle.
“I can’t wait until we live in a world where no one knows what that’s like.”
“Me too. Especially now that I have a kid. This is not the world I want for him, for anyone.”
“How old is Leo?”
“Nine. He’ll be ten in the fall.”
“How old are you? I’m having a hard time placing your age.”
I was usually a good judge of age, but I couldn’t pinpoint Tristan’s. His unlined face, slightly chubby cheeks, and big blue eyes gave him an aura of youth and innocence, but the tiny smattering of gray flecks in his otherwise dark hair suggested he was older.
He was one of those men who could be a chameleon if he wanted. Put him in a suit and tame his wild, slightly wavy hair, and he could pass for any seasoned CEO. But seeing him drinking a beer in my garage, wearing a pair of worn jeans and a threadbare hoodie, made him look like he was any other guy around my age kicking back after a long day.
Even his physique was ambiguous. He’d obviously been in great shape at some point in his life, but he now had that in-between body type where he carried some extra weight while still looking fit. Average, but not quite.
Tristan sipped his beer. “I get that a lot. The baby face really messes people up. I’m thirty-eight.” He shot me a quick look. “And you’re…”
“Twenty-eight.”
“I don’t know why I thought you were younger.”
“Most people do. I think it’s because I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks of me, so I don’t dress or act how most people expect me to.” I shrugged. “Or maybe I’m just immature and don’t realize it.”
“Doubtful. You seem incredibly mature to me.”
“Thanks, Doc.” I toasted him with my bottle.
“I’m not a doctor.” His ears went pink again. Interesting. “Not really.”
“I won’t call you that if you don’t like it, but you are a doctor. You shouldn’t diminish that just because your patients can’t talk.”
“Yeah, that’s a habit I’m trying to break.” He sighed and swished the beer around in his bottle distractedly. “Simon always introduced me to people as Mr. instead of Doctor. He said it was disingenuous to call myself a doctor because people would assume I’m a physician. And he hated that I kept my name.”
“He sounds like the type who would. Let me guess, he said keeping your name meant you weren’t fully committed to the relationship when, in fact, it was about possession. You have my name, you belong to me, and nothing more.”
“It’s like you were there during our arguments.” He laughed bitterly. “He insisted he couldn’t change his name because he’d already established a professional reputation with his birth name. I argued that I earned my degrees under my birth name and refused to put his name on them. That really pissed him off.”
“You guys had different names while you were married?”
“Yup. Leo has a hyphenated name. His first, but at least I managed to get mine on his paperwork too. It’s infinitely easier to deal with schools and doctors and everyone else if you have the same name as your child.”
“I never understood that whole thing.”
“What thing?” He sipped his beer.
“Changing your name. I mean, I get it from a historical perspective. Marriage used to be a way to transfer assets between families, so women changed their names from their father’s to their husband’s to show the change of ownership. But why are we still doing this now? And why do so many men get pressed when their partner doesn’t want to take their name? Why don’t they change theirs if having the same name as their spouse is so important?”
“I’ve never understood it either. I’m just grateful I stood my ground. I’ve seen how difficult it is to go back to using your birth name after a divorce, especially in professional circles. I can’t tell you the number of people I know who’ve kept using their married names because it’s easier, even if they don’t have children and have every reason to take their names back.”
“I can’t imagine having to use the name of someone who could have been an abuser or even just an asshole. No one gets divorced because they’re besties with their ex. Being tied to them through their name would suck.”
“So true.” Tristan paused and pursed his lips. He’d done that a few times. Was that his tell that he was thinking about something, or was that a sign he was stopping himself from saying something?