Dex walks beside me, his presence steady and warm like a comforting flame that won’t go out. The past few days have been a whirlwind of emotions, trying to reconcile my fury at his actions with the reality of why he did them. The old Margaux, the one buried under layers of pain and distrust, would never have entertained the possibility of forgiveness.
But now? Now I’m learning to make room for the complexities of human behavior—and the idea that maybe, just maybe, someone can care about me without ulterior motives. Even though he went about it in a pretty invasive way, Dex did have my best interests at heart.
We approach a small café, its charm understated with a cheerful striped awning and the aroma of fresh coffee wafting out the door. Dex moves quickly to grab the handle, and instinctively, I flinch. The reaction is immediate, automatic.
I blush as I realize he was merely attempting to open the door for me.
He freezes, his eyes wide with concern. “Margaux, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“No, no, you’re fine.” I wave him off, though my cheeks burn with embarrassment. “It’s just… a habit, I guess.”
Dex studies me, his green-hazel eyes softening. “You could do or say the most annoying things. Hell, you could evenhitme—please don’t, but theoretically, youcould—and I would still never hit you.Ever.You could yell and scream the meanest, most vile things, and we’d work through it. But I wouldn’t raise a hand to you. Not ever.”
I look away, blinking back tears. The sincerity in his voice is almost too much to handle.
We settle into a small corner table inside, the kind meant for quiet conversations and stolen moments, comfortable in each other’s company. I sip my dirty chai, savoring the warmth as it spreads through me, and watch Dex across the table with his plain black coffee.
“I hope you don’t see me as some kind of scared shelter dog,” I say, my voice nervous but teasing.
“Well,” he begins with a grin, “only in the sense that you’ve both been through some serious trauma. But no. As much as I love dogs, I’d never compare you to one.”
“A sheltercat, then?”
He laughs, the sound deep and easy. “No. No shelter animals. I love them, but you’re much more complex and multifaceted than that.”
I roll my eyes, but a smile creeps across my face despite myself.
“Doesn’t it put you off?” I ask suddenly. “That I’ve been married several times before?”
“Not at all,” Dex says, his tone steady. “We all have our pasts. Things that shape who we are today. It doesn’t make you any less incredible.”
“But what about me willingly being in a relationship like my last one? That I let myself be treated like that?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he replies. “It’s not your fault you were abused. You didn’t ask for or deserve that treatment. If anything, it makes me want to protect you even more.”
A tear slips down my cheek, and I brush it away quickly, embarrassed.
Dex leans forward, his voice soft but firm. “From what I know, you’ve been way too hard on yourself for way too long. For things that were completely out of your control. None of us are perfect, Margaux. We all make mistakes. Decisions we’d change if we could. But those things don’t diminish your value as a person. And I think you’ve believed your whole life that they do.”
I smirk despite myself. “You sound like my therapist.”
Dex smiles back. “She sounds like a smart lady.”
“She likes you so far,” I admit.
“Verysmart lady,” he repeats, grinning. “Genius, even.”
“Do you have any kids?” I ask, dreading the answer.
He shakes his head. “No.”
“Secretkids?”
He laughs softly. “No. I couldn’t have a secret kid. I’d be too excited to talk about them.”
I quirk a brow. “You want to be a dad?”
“Not necessarily,” he shrugs. “That bird may have flown the coop. But if I was to have one, I would love it more than anything in this world.”