The next morning, practically at dawn, Gray and Regan bumped into each other. She was in the kitchen when he came through the door.
"Oh, morning." He muttered sheepishly. He knew what it would look like. Coming in at this time of the morning, after a date, still wearing the clothes from the previous night. But after their meal, Caro told him that she was invited to a party and the invitation included him. So they went to the party. It finished at three, but their return journey was hampered by an accident that blocked the road.
"Morning." She replied. And pure jealousy surged through her. She knew the time, nearly six in the morning. And he was still wearing his clothes from his date.
He'd stayed out all night. All night. With Mrs Hanley. With knowing that, it really hurt.
"Well," She mumbled doing her best to hide her dejection, "I've got to be going." She looked for her bag, and picked up her sandwiches and a thermos. Anything to switch off her mind as she replayed what might have happened on his date.
His eyes darkened as they searched her eyes. He remembered the fact that she had been very kind to him yesterday. "I, er, didn't thank you, yesterday." He felt he owed her that much at least. Even now he didn't understand why she had helped boost his self-esteem.
She looked trustingly into his eyes, and for some reason his pulse hammered in his throat. "Thank me?" Regan stalled by the door, drinking in the sight of his dishevelled appearance. He looked happy, content. Despite being unkempt and a touch scruffy he was still stunning. "For what?" She questioned with a weak smile then pretended to search for her keys in her bag.
"Flatter my ego." He said quietly.
She shook her head, "I didn't do that." and smiled cheerfully. Just a shame that her smile was pasted on. She realised that smiling at someone when you are tempted to screech, is actually rather difficult. But she also realised that a screech in her mind can manifest as a smile.
"Ok. Remember the compliments." He reminded her somewhat sheepishly. He gave her an odd look, before he could add more.
She kept her mutter to herself. Instead, she hedged, "Compliments." She gave up her pretence of searching for her keys and looked at him.
He searched her eyes curiously. "Yes. You were, well, er, nice!"
Regan snorted, "I am nice!"
He smiled, "And I owe you thanks, for stopping me from being a complete ass about a simple date. I was ready to cancelled. And it had been a good first date." Albeit, there was something wrong with the date, but he couldn't figure out why. It was pleasant, easy, decent company, but something about it was just off. They spent a lot of time together on that first day, but it didn't registered as something to remember. A good date. But he had lots of good dates in the past, and he can't actually remember them either because they were just decent dates, enjoyable, pleasant, nothing exceptional.
"I was just telling it as I saw it." She faltered. He had a good first date with Caro, what a shame, her heart screeched.
"You did more than that." Gray said quietly and watched her eyes. Her eyes didn't match the tone in her speech.
She shrugged. "Well, ok. Thanks." Regan replied, but didn't look at him. It hurt. The fact that he had taken another woman out. A young, gorgeous woman and she had helped him to prepare for that date. What at idiot, she told herself. Regan hoped that this sense of loss would recede. But she wondered whether he had ever even contemplated asking her out? Doubt it. Given the number of times he'd accused her of being selfish, and self absorbed, she doubted he'd be attracted to that kind of woman.
Gray watched her body language and realised that she was backing away. "Yesterday, you could have used my lack of confidence to get even with me."
"Get even with you?"
"Yes."
"Get even with you. Why would I do that?"
"You could have used my nerves to get even with me, given our previous interactions. But you didn't." He hesitated as he admitted with disarming honesty. "Instead, you boosted my self esteem. Why did you do that?" He ran a hand round the back of his neck as he admitted more in a slightly embarrassed tone of voice, "I hadn't been on a date in a while." He laughed ruefully, trying to hide the fact that he was disconcerted about talking to her about his lack of social life. Sheepishly he added, "Pitiful?" He wasn't sure why he was telling her this. But it was as if he owed her an explanation.
"Hardly." She replied, sensing once again the vulnerability behind that hard exterior he'd developed. She hadn't been on a date since he'd kissed her and she was sure that he and Caro would have done more than kiss. He was coming home at this time of the morning after their date last night, and kissing had probably been the first course!
A vice tightened around her heart. It was physical and painful.
This is the difference. The conversation he had with his date was superficial, and here, he was talking to a woman, who he avoids when he can, is now telling her about his personal issues!
"I nearly lost my nerve yesterday. You know, going on a normal date." He mumbled with a fair amount of discomfiture. "I guess." He looked away.
Embarrassed by the fact that he'd told her that. It wasn't that he was usually so forthcoming, even before the attack, he'd always been one to play things close to his chest. And yet here he was telling her what he felt. How he felt. And once he'd started his mouth seemed to think it was time to spill about everything.
"In my mind I still see what I saw when they took the bandages off." He still saw the trauma to his face and body. His face tautened and for a second, he took a breath and then continued, "It was a shock." He said roughly and looked across at her. Their gaze locked. He took another breath. "It was horrific." He couldn't believe that he was talking to her about his qualms. Her? Why her? "I was in a state. A complete mess."
She waited, said nothing, just waited for him to continue.
"Given the situation, with my grandmother, well, I never thought about talking about me falling apart, to either grandfather or Lore. My grandfather had a lot on his plate. The last thing he needed was to know that I was falling apart."
It was a release to be able to talk about it. He hadn't admitted how shocked he'd been, not to anyone. He'd always felt he'd have to hold it together. The family had suffered such a huge loss, the last thing they needed was him adding to their woes and anxieties.
"There was so much to do with the physical aspects of my injuries. I just forgot that I had to deal with my emotional scars."
She heard the sincerity and misery in his voice. Regan put her bag down on the table. Ok, she was going to be a few minutes late. Again. But she couldn't leave him feeling like this, especially as he had made the effort to explain. The man was suffering grief, he might not have admitted it to himself but he had been traumatised, and his way of dealing with it had clearly been to bury it all. Now that he was talking, she really couldn't just leave him feeling emotionally and physically battered. She could see the anguish in his eyes and she could hear his suffering in his voice. It would have taken courage to tell her, especially for a man who had banked up his emotional baggage. For some reason he trusted her.
It took guts, to tell her about his opinions and his feelings about his body. Perhaps he only told her because she was a doctor, or perhaps, he really trusted her despite his attitude to her.
Regan whispered, "I'm sure it was a huge shock." She came to stand in front of him. She told him gently, "Of course, seeing the damage, seeing the scars, it would hit like a sledgehammer." She said in her clinical tone, "When that screen is lodged in your brain, it would take time to replace it in your brain." That tone was replaced with a gentle tone, "Obviously you still see you as the man with the injuries scars." She wished she had the guts to hold him and give him a comforting hug.
"I am still the man with the injuries scars!" He said with a rueful laugh. Why was he talking to her about his anxieties?
She hesitated a second, saw his angst and making up her mind, she said gently, "Come with me." She took his hand and dragged him towards the bathroom. Her action bemused him and he had followed without even thinking about it. Why had he even started to tell her about how he felt? It wasn't as if they were close friends, or any kind of friend, come to that.
With their fingers intertwined, he followed. "What are you doing?" Her hand felt small in his, but she'd still managed to take him with her. And why was he holding on to her hand? Why did it feel right? The thought raced through his mind. Why was this different? Holding her hand? He had held Caro's hand last night. But holding onto Regan's hand now was so different. So, so, different. He was stunned by the connection. And his bemusement allowed her to manoeuvre him to the bathroom! She was amazed when she realised she practically dragged a six-foot-175-pound man to the bathroom and he allowed it.