Page 64 of When Hearts Unravel

The spell breaks, and he jolts as if I’ve electrocuted him with a factoid I picked up watching late-night documentaries on the Discovery Channel when I, too, was tormented by the past.

“Does your family know about your insomnia? Have you seen a doctor about it?” I steer the conversation back to safe waters.

“No. I’m not the only one suffering from lack of sleep. They have enough troubles on their plate. No need to worry them.” He chuckles, but there’s no merriment, only more resignation. “Casey’s worried though, but then, he’s worried about everything.”

“And he is?” I wasn’t aware of an Anderson with the name of Casey.

He stares at his hands. “My best friend. My oldest friend. I honestly don’t know why he puts up with me.” The words are barely audible, but they ring the loudest of everything he’s said today.

Shame.He’s dealing with shame and doesn’t want to burden anyone.

Then, he shifts in his seat and glances at his phone. “Time’s up, Doc. But since our conversation has gone so well, I’ll throw in a freebie.”

Rex reaches into his pocket and pulls out a vial half-filled with white pills. He gives it a shake. “I’m sure you and my family are dying to know, and I can put your worries to rest. These are caffeine pills. I take them because of my insomnia.”

With a mock salute, he stands and strides to the door, the earlier laziness in his frame nowhere to be seen.

“Is this why you don’t want psychiatric meds?” I ask.

Not that I can prescribe any to him yet. I need to figure out what’s going on first. And I don’t believe in forcing people to take medication if they aren’t ready for it.

He stops mid-stride.

“I don’t think meds will work on my problems,” he murmurs.

The muscles in his back flex and bunch when he grips the doorknob.

“You owe me a truth, Doc. I’ll collect one day.” He doesn’t turn around as he says, “You can’t save me. I need to have something worth saving first.”

His pained words echo in the room when the door snicks shut.

My lungs draw in a few frenzied inhales, like I’ve been running a marathon for the past hour. I pick up my pen and write, my movements barely quick enough to keep up with my thoughts.

Best friend Casey knows him better than his family.

Insists on relying on caffeine pills instead of addressing the root cause of insomnia. Overreliance or addiction? Note to self: research the newest pills on the market and side effects.

Shame is a primary factor in erratic behavior. Appears to be tied to someone he’s lost. But why now?

Claims to use sex to fall asleep, but it’s a lie.

I don’t know how I know it. Perhaps it was the fascinated glint in his irises when he was telling me about his exploits, like my reaction was the high he was chasing.

But the statement rings false.

Rex Anderson is a party animal, a relentless flirt, and supposedly a king in the sack, but I haven’t seen him in the news with a woman foralmost half a year until Bree, and even then, they both imply their relationship isn’t like that. Their interactions are also strangely respectful, not at all how lovebirds or friends with benefits would behave.

Like you would know, Olivia. You had one boyfriend in high school and you had sex three times.

And it was wholly uninspiring, to say the least.

I jot down another question.

Who is Bree to him?

Then I drop back into my chair and close my eyes. I’m equal parts frustrated and invested.

But deep down, I’m afraid I’ll never unravel the puzzle that is Rex Cassius Anderson.