realised.
‘What your résumé didn’t say was how your husband died or how much pain you might have felt during the past four years or how deeply the whole situation had affected you.’
‘No, it doesn’t, so stop digging around, Dex. Stop trying to get to know me. I know your type. You’re a love ’em and leave ’em type of guy. You hold yourself aloof, not only from relationships with women but from relationships with everyone. You forget that I know Melissa. I was the friend she leaned on when her parents died. I was the friend who supported her when she went looking for her birth mother. I was the friend she confided in when she discovered she had a brother, and I was the friend who passed her the tissues when you initially refused to see her.
‘Now, I know you’re trying to make good by getting to know her and I hope you do because she is one amazing woman who was there for me when I needed her most.’ Iris’s voice cracked on the last words. She hated Dex for making her feel so vulnerable.
Dex instinctively put out a hand to offer comfort but she shrugged it away.
‘Don’t touch me. I don’t like being touched.’
‘Why? People should be touched. It’s part of the healing process…and it’s something I’m learning myself.’
‘You? You who are surrounded by women all the time?’
Dex made a point of looking around him. ‘I only see one woman.’ For some reason he had a burning need to get through to her, to let her see he wasn’t the Casanova she thought he was. ‘Look, I know I’m not perfect and I don’t profess to be,but I have issues, too. Melissa’s probably told you I haven’t spoken to my parents in over two years. I had no idea I was adopted until I received Melissa’s first letter. My parents never told me, so for thirty-one years I firmly believed I was their son. I believed my younger brother and sister were my siblings. I was lied to and I know all about cutting yourself off and not wanting anyone to touch you—whether it be physical or emotional. You can be surrounded by people and still be quite alone simply because you don’t let any of them touch you. Not the real you. Not the person you’ve hidden away inside.’
‘Why are you telling me this?’
Dex took a step away from her and raked a hand through his hair. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps it’s because I don’t like it that you don’t like me.’ He shrugged and smiled. ‘I guess I’m used to being liked but I also know I’m not perfect. I’ve been hurt in love before. I’ve been betrayed by the ones I love. I also had an accident a few weeks ago—almost a month ago now. I lost a lot of blood but thankfully Melissa was there to help me out. Still, at times like that, at those really dark, dark times, it makes a person think. It made me realise that I couldn’t keep running from my problems.’
‘You think I’m running?’
Dex spread his arms wide, indicating the surroundings. ‘You’re in Didja. Nine times out of ten, people come here to escape from something.’
‘And tell me, Dr Freud. What am I escaping from?’
Dex shrugged, not caring that she was still mad at him. If being mad helped him to get to know her better, then for the moment, so be it. ‘My first guess would be whatever happened to your husband. It must have been a traumatic death to leave you with such deep scars.’
Iris’s mouth went dry and she started to tremble at his words. Her vision had blurred a little due to the tears she wastrying to control. She felt her knees begin to buckle and she clutched wildly for the support of one of the chairs but couldn’t find one. Dex immediately put out his hand to support her and she grabbed it. ‘How?’ Her words were barely above a whisper, her body trembling with disbelief. ‘How did you know about my scars?’
CHAPTER FOUR
D EX was astounded, not only at the complete emotional switch around but at the anguish and pain in her words.
He’d only been employing a bit of basic
‘What your résumé didn’t say was how your husband died or how much pain you might have felt during the past four years or how deeply the whole situation had affected you.’
‘No, it doesn’t, so stop digging around, Dex. Stop trying to get to know me. I know your type. You’re a love ’em and leave ’em type of guy. You hold yourself aloof, not only from relationships with women but from relationships with everyone. You forget that I know Melissa. I was the friend she leaned on when her parents died. I was the friend who supported her when she went looking for her birth mother. I was the friend she confided in when she discovered she had a brother, and I was the friend who passed her the tissues when you initially refused to see her.
‘Now, I know you’re trying to make good by getting to know her and I hope you do because she is one amazing woman who was there for me when I needed her most.’ Iris’s voice cracked on the last words. She hated Dex for making her feel so vulnerable.
Dex instinctively put out a hand to offer comfort but she shrugged it away.
‘Don’t touch me. I don’t like being touched.’
‘Why? People should be touched. It’s part of the healing process…and it’s something I’m learning myself.’
‘You? You who are surrounded by women all the time?’
Dex made a point of looking around him. ‘I only see one woman.’ For some reason he had a burning need to get through to her, to let her see he wasn’t the Casanova she thought he was. ‘Look, I know I’m not perfect and I don’t profess to be,but I have issues, too. Melissa’s probably told you I haven’t spoken to my parents in over two years. I had no idea I was adopted until I received Melissa’s first letter. My parents never told me, so for thirty-one years I firmly believed I was their son. I believed my younger brother and sister were my siblings. I was lied to and I know all about cutting yourself off and not wanting anyone to touch you—whether it be physical or emotional. You can be surrounded by people and still be quite alone simply because you don’t let any of them touch you. Not the real you. Not the person you’ve hidden away inside.’
‘Why are you telling me this?’
Dex took a step away from her and raked a hand through his hair. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps it’s because I don’t like it that you don’t like me.’ He shrugged and smiled. ‘I guess I’m used to being liked but I also know I’m not perfect. I’ve been hurt in love before. I’ve been betrayed by the ones I love. I also had an accident a few weeks ago—almost a month ago now. I lost a lot of blood but thankfully Melissa was there to help me out. Still, at times like that, at those really dark, dark times, it makes a person think. It made me realise that I couldn’t keep running from my problems.’
‘You think I’m running?’
Dex spread his arms wide, indicating the surroundings. ‘You’re in Didja. Nine times out of ten, people come here to escape from something.’
‘And tell me, Dr Freud. What am I escaping from?’
Dex shrugged, not caring that she was still mad at him. If being mad helped him to get to know her better, then for the moment, so be it. ‘My first guess would be whatever happened to your husband. It must have been a traumatic death to leave you with such deep scars.’
Iris’s mouth went dry and she started to tremble at his words. Her vision had blurred a little due to the tears she wastrying to control. She felt her knees begin to buckle and she clutched wildly for the support of one of the chairs but couldn’t find one. Dex immediately put out his hand to support her and she grabbed it. ‘How?’ Her words were barely above a whisper, her body trembling with disbelief. ‘How did you know about my scars?’
CHAPTER FOUR
D EX was astounded, not only at the complete emotional switch around but at the anguish and pain in her words.
He’d only been employing a bit of basic
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