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That warmed my heart. “Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad the truth came out,” I said.
“He told you it was okay to tell me?”
“Yes. I cleared it with him first.”
Dax returned to his desk and tapped his pen. “I’m gonna call his therapist right now. Fill her in.”
“Good idea.” I nodded. “Anyway, I’d better get going and let you do that. I’m sure you also have to get back to work.”
“Unfortunately, I do.” He looked down at the stacks of papers on his desk. “I’ve got this deadline, and I’ll be here through tonight. Shannon is staying late to keep Rafe company until I can get home. He’s technically old enough to stay by himself, but I don’t like him to be alone for long stretches, you know?”
“I don’t blame you.”
He tapped his pen again. “What are you up to the rest of the afternoon?”
“I’m off today. I’m meeting Sam for dinner downtown. Not doing much before that.”
Dax opened his mouth as if he might say something, but then stopped. He seemed to think better of it.
Instead, he nodded and said, “Have fun.”
• • •
Sam and I were finishing up dinner at Beantown Beerworks when my phone chimed. I looked down to find a text from Dax.
Dax: Thank you again for taking the time to come see me today. I had a long talk with Rafe’s therapist who’s working on a new cognitive behavioral strategy. Also, you left your scarf on the chair in my office. I can take it home with me tonight if you want. You can pick it up the next time you’re at the house. Let me know.
“Who’s that?” Sam asked.
I looked up. “Dax.”
He stopped chewing. “What does he want?”
I put my phone down. “I left my scarf at his office today.”
“What were you doing at his office?”
“We needed to talk about Rafe.”
He wiped his mouth. “Everything okay?”
“Yes. I just needed to fill him in on a conversation Rafe and I had pertaining to his mom, something that helped explain why he’s stayed silent for so long.”
“So you went over to his office in the middle of the workday? It couldn’t wait?”
My tone turned a little abrasive. “No, it couldn’t wait. It was important. He had some time to meet with me, so I went.”
Sam went quiet after that and seemed preoccupied for the rest of our meal. More and more, I knew I was just biding my time with him, and I shouldn’t be stringing him along. I needed to end things. It wasn’t fair to keep him around as a distraction from my desire for someone else. The only consolation was that I’d never promised Sam exclusivity. My heart certainly wasn’t exclusively his.
Since Sam had taken the train to meet me, we went our separate ways after dinner. I headed toward the Orange Line train while he took the Blue Line back to his house in Winthrop.
I finally responded to Dax’s text as I waited for the subway.
Wren: Are you still at the office?
Dax: Yeah. For about another hour.
Wren: Do you mind if I come grab my scarf before you leave?
Dax: Of course not. I’ll be here.
Wren: Cool. Thanks. Your office is on my way home.
Two stops later, I got off at the station closest to Dax’s building and walked the two blocks over.
After taking the elevator to the twentieth level, I noticed the lights were off in most of the offices on Dax’s floor.
His door was slightly ajar.
“Knock, knock,” I said before opening.
Dax tossed his glasses aside. “Hey.”
“Did I almost get a glimpse of the old-man glasses?”
“Shit, yeah.” He smiled. “I’ve needed my reading glasses for all this freaking paperwork.”
Even though his eyes were red, he still looked as handsome as ever.
“You look tired,” I said.
“Is that another way of saying I look like shit?”
“You could never look like shit,” I answered.
“I’m so wiped, Wren. And on top of that, I can’t stop thinking about Rafe.”
“That’s understandable. But he’s on his way to getting better. That should provide some solace.”
He rubbed his eyes. His stress was palpable. I couldn’t help wanting to do what I do best—relieve some of it. “Close your eyes and take a deep breath,” I suggested.
He did as I said. I walked behind him and began to massage his shoulders.
“You don’t need to do that,” he said in a low voice.
“It’s on the house.”
While this was nothing like my typical massage, I could still feel his body calming in response to my hands working his upper back. A long breath escaped him as he surrendered.
Dax hung his head forward and fully relaxed. “I forgot how fucking good it feels to be massaged by you,” he murmured.
“You should’ve kept the façade going longer then,” I teased. “Think of how many massages you could’ve had.”
His body tensed.
I squeezed his shoulders harder. “I’m just kidding, Moody. Relax.”
