Her plan disintegrated. No point now. Clearly she doesn't have the gumption or the nature to change her attitudes and values overnight! Probably not even during her lifetime, either.
Gray searched her face.
"Don't worry about it." She turned away and reached for her chopsticks. He was starting to relax a bit more. Regan added, "It looks worse than it is."
"You are sure?" He asked gently, and watched her body language. Her body language gave the impression that she was defeated.
"Yes." She nodded faintly and reached for the noodles. "The ice worked," She said quietly, poked the chopsticks into the noodles and reached for a prawn, "it's probably kept the swelling down."
"Ice?" He muttered and rubbed at his forehead. And Gray remembered lunch. She was at the sink, popping ice cubes when he'd been reading her his lecture. He closed his eyes and swore silently. He was an idiot. "You were attacked this morning." Things started to make sense.
"Yes." She was about to eat the prawn when her manners stopped her from speaking with her mouth full of food!
He banked his sigh, as he remembered their earlier conversation, "That's why you didn't turn around when I spoke to you earlier." He murmured. At the time he'd assumed she was being disrespectful and in a snit with him. "Why didn't you tell me?" She said nothing. He got to his feet.
She looked at her cartons and gestured at the cartons with her chopsticks, "Would you like something to eat?"
He shook his head, "Thanks. I already ate." He stared at her. "Why didn't you tell me, this morning?" He ran his fingers through his hair. "I am an idiot! An insensitive idiot." He mumbled feeling guilty he turned his back to her and looked out into the darkness. Regan said nothing in response. Gray sighed, "You need to be more careful."
"I was." She put her noodles down. "It was just an accident." She tried to joke, "Poor timing. And poor luck."
"I know all about that." He muttered and wondered when he would stop remembering that dreadful day in his life, an event that had changed his life. That was all down to timing and poor luck. "Timing. Luck." He looked at the horizon without seeing anything, as his behaviour, towards Regan today, resurfaced. At that time, he was rode by his mood and did not even stop to ask why she was at home, in the middle of the day, pressing out ice cubes into a tea towel at the sink! "I am really sorry, Regan." He said quietly. "If I knew about it, this morning, I..."
"It looks worse than it is." She interrupted him gently, as she saw his shoulders tense. She was right, seeing her bruise would bring bad memories to the surface. "Honestly, I'm ok."
That had him turning to face her. He shook his head, "I should be comforting you, and here you are trying to help me. That is why you did not turn around to face me at lunch, when you were beside the sink? That is why you are here, eating in practically darkness, on your own!"
Regan shrugged. She opted to be honest. "I jumped to the conclusion that seeing the effect of violence might distress you and your family. You especially, given what you've been through." She got to her feet and said softly, "Sam said you never spoke about what happened to you, or your grandmother." She said gently, "And I didn't want to upset you with evidence of recent violence."
He turned away. Regan was not sure what to do, she rubbed her forehead, should she give him a hug or steer the conversation to another topic.
Sound of silence was deafening.
"They left me for dead." He whispered and she barely heard his words. Talking about that event was not something he'd shared with anyone before. He wasn't sure why he was telling Regan. But for the first time, he wanted to tell someone. Just her.
Regan turned to look at him. He was looking out, staring into the dusk light. All he knew was that he wanted her to know why he was reacting the way he was. He spoke quietly, "I don't know what happened to Gran." Regan gulped. Gray continued, "I was knocked out."
Regan sighed with sympathy, "Gray."
"Actually, they beat me to a pulp." He gulped, closed his eyes and took a breath. Regan came and stood beside him, her hand reached out to tenderly stroke his back, but she said nothing.
Gray said quietly, "Granddad took Lore to town. Gran was in the house, and I was in the paddock near the gates at the front of the farm. Was actually repairing the fence by the gate, when a jeep with four men showed up at the farm." The grief was potent. "Maybe if I was in the house we could have barricaded ourselves in. We could have found a way to hold them off." He looked sightlessly out into the dusk light. Regan was tempted to tell him that was unlikely. Gray inhaled and exhaled in an attempt to rein his emotions, "If we'd managed to hold out, for just five minutes, she might still be alive." His voice was a bare whisper.
Regan continued to stroke his back offering comfort.
"Timing. Lousy timing." He closed his eyes. If I'd stayed longer for lunch, worked closer to the house, held out a bit longer, those were the thoughts that haunted him, stalked his nights and ghosted through his days. "If they'd taken a few more minutes to pound on me, Gran might be alive now." He breathed out a long sigh, "But they figured they'd killed me, so no point stopping to keep beating up a dead body."
Regan continued to caress his back and could feel the tension in his back.
"Help might have reached Gran, in time, if they'd just taken a few more punches, a few more kicks." But he knew his injuries were so bad he could not help anyone. Even now, his legs are pinned. "They smashed both of my legs. Left my femur and tibia shattered." Regan gulped in horror, but she did not interrupt Gray's speech, "Actually, basically left my legs in fragments, practically rubble. Destroyed my ribs. They were cracked in several places." He took another breath. Those thugs had kicked him to unconscious. "My face was a mess, probably considered my head a ball. Kicked it. Over and over. According to Lore, I was dripping with blood, oozing from my nose, ears, mouth, when she and granddad found me." He knew he was a total wreck from head to toes. He continued quietly, "They broke my cheek bones, ribs, legs. And I can't believe they did not break my arms."
Regan shuddered in horror. Regan kept her arm around him as she stepped in front of him and gently tugged him into a hug. She needed this hug as much as him.
He slowly blew out a breath, and said quietly, "I could not help my Gran because those thugs left me unconscious." He said, "They left me, assuming I was dead, and went up to the house." His voice caught. "Where they found Gran." He was fighting not to cry, she could feel the strain in his back and shoulders.
She held on tighter. He wrapped his arms around her. Squeezing her tight. Holding on tightly. They said nothing for several minutes. Regan held him, the way she had always wanted to be held when she felt abandoned or miserable. Gray just closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat as he fends off his tears. Regan said nothing, just stood with him in her arms, as she gently stroked his back.
They stood together for many minutes. Not saying a word. Just standing within an embrace.
Eventually, he slowly lifted his head. Regan tipped her head back to study him. For long seconds they looked into each other's eyes. Exchanged thoughts without talking. Eyes revealing riddles, unknown, unrecognised confidences. The look in his eyes made her heart thud. He was looking at her expectantly, as mysteries unravelled in silence.
She gave herself a mental pep talk. Stop. Move away. It didn't matter. That look didn't matter. That wonderful, silent, conversation meant nothing. Revealing that conundrum did not bring answers. Did she imagine his response in his eyes? Remember the plan, her head warned. Remember the taciturn-plan, her head repeated. Her heart asked her brain, what was it exactly?
Obviously moonlight was powerful, persuasive, and compelling she thought as she clung to his shoulder when he cupped her head.
He said softly, "And here you are, having dinner out here, because you didn't want me to see your face." He watched her eyes, tried to fathom out her thoughts.
"Maybe." She whispered. Regan felt her knees buckle, and automatically laced both arms on his shoulders, to anchor her. As the episode stretched out as the moment seen in their imagination play out in reality.
He murmured, his eyes focused on her lips, "Because I told you about my experience. And because Granddad told you about me."
"Ok, yes, maybe." She licked her lips, stood on her toes and leaned closer. The episode left her security blanket in its wake.
In some strange way, he felt as though he'd known her forever. Something inside of him shifted. He knew practically nothing about her. But his craving for her was primal. He gave up any pretence that he could resist her. Inched closer. Licked his lip, angled his head, but it was only when his hand cupping her head accidentally brushed against the edge of the bruise as his thumb sought to caress her cheek, that the flick of pain had her suddenly rearing away.
The action brought sanity.
Gray all but thrust her from him. He backed away. With his head framed by his hands, his palms against his temples, fingers lodged between his hair, breathing hard, he watched her carefully "What was that?" He demanded quietly as guilt forced him to shift the blame.
"What?" She folded her arms. "Nothing." Hunched her shoulder. Humiliation washed through. "Just a hug." She mumbled. Caught her lower lip between her teeth, as she studied him and she saw sanity return to his eyes. He felt guilt.
They nearly kissed. No kiss at all, but the anticipation of his touch, his taste of him in her mouth, had her heart racing. She blinked.
He narrowed his eyes at her glib retort. "Just a hug?" He turned away. "I'm seeing Caro." He reminded her but the words cut through to him. Though he wasn't sure whether the reminder was for him or her. He turned back to see her. "You know that!" His eyes were hard and uncompromising.
His statement was enough to wipe away the fog of their passion. The jigsaw pieces of her emotions scattered around as his words registered. She was sad about his tone and she was upset by his words. She could hear the uneven thump of her heart. "I know." She said equally quietly. She wrapped her arms across her midriff, recognised the nerves fluttering in her tummy. Sad, aching, hurting. The throb of the bruise was dull in comparison with the pain just below her breastbone, where her heart was slowly shattering. "But you know that too!" She sighed. "It was just a hug! Just a hug." A nearly kiss, her brain reminded her.
He turned away. What a mess. The torrent ofpassion and hunger was unexpected.