Afternoon Delight - By Mia Zachary Page 0,58

opened them again.

“I made the mistake of letting down my guard, of thinking long term.” She told P.J. about the night she’d gotten Dr. Solís’s call. “I didn’t date a lawyer, but the ending was the same.”

P.J. regarded her with wise, blue eyes. “Not quite. I think you really fell for this guy.”

“Maybe. Maybe I did. But I’ll get over it.” She shrugged. Even as she said it, though, Rei recognized the fact that Chris wasn’t like the other men she’d dated. She really had let herself care this time.

“I’m sorry, for your sake, that it’s over.”

“Hey, it’s for the best, right? I’m glad I found out now, instead after the ‘in sickness and in health’ part of the vows.”

P.J. ignored her attempt at a joke. “Talk to Chris. There’s probably a logical explanation for all of this, and you two might be able to work it out.”

“I don’t think so, Peej. No matter what he says, I can’t forget that instinctive first reaction.” Rei looked down at the sticky medical tape residue inside her right elbow. “It hurts less if you rip a bandage off quickly.”

P.J. tilted her head and nibbled her lower lip, a habit that signified there was something on her mind. Rei knew from experience just to wait it out, and indeed P.J. finally drew a breath and haltingly began to speak.

“You know, we’ve known each other for a long time. And I sometimes wonder how our friendship has lasted this long. You are bright and witty and loyal and so many other good things. But, Rei, you’re also one of the least forgiving people I’ve ever met.”

She gasped, stunned by the blunt observation and by the cold recognition of truth. For what seemed like the hundredth time in the past twenty-four hours, tears stung the back of her eyes. Rei felt too dejected to even get angry.

“I’m sorry, Rei, but it’s true. The instant someone disappoints you, you cut them out of your life.”

She realized what P.J. had said was true and cringed inside. Rei drew patterns in the condensation on her glass, not meeting P.J.’s eye. “You make me sound like a complete bitch.”

“You’re not a bitch. You’re a woman whose protective shell has grown into plated armor. Outside of the courtroom, you never give anyone a second chance. That makes it harder for them to hurt you, but you never give them an opportunity to make up for it either.”

Was this the reason the men in her life were never around when she needed them, why it was so hard for her to make close friends? Had she subconsciously done something to push them away? She thought back over several relationships, about offences big and small. She wasn’t wrong. Those people had let her down. Hadn’t they?

Rei shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She was getting psychoanalyzed every time she turned around lately. “So what’s your advice? Call Chris and restart a relationship that was founded on deception?”

P.J.’s intense gaze contradicted her gentle tone. “Chris isn’t the man you need to talk to, honey. You’ll never get any sense of closure until you resolve your issues with Gordon.”

Rei felt her expression harden along with her voice. “Yeah, like that’s going to happen.”

“Then you need to accept the fact that you’re never going to be whole or happy.”

REI SPENT most of Saturday in bed. She’d earned a day of wallowing in self-pity, something she normally didn’t indulge in. But, frankly, it had been a hellacious week and all she wanted to do was sleep. Sleep was the ultimate avoidance tactic—except when it resulted in dreams.

She stood on the edge of a canyon, a frigid wind howling in her ears and slapping against her face. There were people all around her—friends, acquaintances and coworkers, family.

She tried to speak but no one seemed to hear her. Then she realized she was encased in a bubble of glass.

Though she stood among the crowd, she couldn’t touch them and they couldn’t get through to her. They reached out for her, but she slipped over the precipice, falling into isolated darkness.

Rei awoke with a start, her heart racing and the stale residue of nightmares clinging to her skin. Her temples throbbed with a slight headache. Shoving the covers aside, she got up and padded to the en suite where she ran warm water over a cloth. After washing her face, she looked up and caught sight of herself in the mirror.

Usually when she looked, she noticed only the sum of