Page 110 of Dex

“You’re ...charming, and refreshing, and intelligent, and smart and ...”

This man is laughing at me, and I don’t like it.“Okay.Stop.We’re alone here, you don’t need to humor me.Continue with the tour.”I move past him, eyeing the rest of the apartment.He moves fast, barely pausing as he gestures.

“This is the master bedroom.”He pushes the door open.I survey it in silence because he doesn’t give me any details.Its sleek, masculine and looks impeccably clean.The color palette is charcoal grays, blacks, and whites.A king-sized bed dominates the room.Crisp white pillows with a textured slate-gray duvet.There’s a fireplace, built-in shelving, holding high-end watches, and a half-empty tumbler of scotch stands on the nightstand.

“Your room is here.”He steps away, across the hallway and pushes the door open to the room directly opposite his.

I step inside, and stop, my eyes sweeping over the king-sized bed and the dressers and what looks like the entrance to a walk-in closet.This room is such a contrast against the gray, black, and white of the rest of the apartment.It has a dash of color.My eyes fix on the soft green walls and that’s when I realize.They’re the same shade of eucalyptus green from home.

“Don’t you like it?”He sounds oddly anxious.

It smells like fresh paint.Like someone tried to disguise it and failed.“Did you do thisfor me?”

“Yes, for you,” he says reluctantly.Like it’s a chore and now he wishes he hadn’t.“You told me it was your favorite color.”

“You remembered.”I try to compose myself.“I like it very much.You’re… thoughtful and kind, and you didn’t have to do this, but you did,” I say softly.I look away before he sees my eyes turning misty.I’ve been strong throughout this entire process, but now, this tiny act of kindness has me on the verge of blubbering.And I can’t break down, not in front of him.

“It’s just paint, Daniela.”Dexter leans against the doorframe, watching me.“Figured I’d make it a little more homey for you.”

I walk around slowly, taking in the plush bedding, the small details, things that aren’t just generic luxury but personal, and thoughtful.Things that make my throat constrict.Framed prints of São Paulo, a candle that smells of jasmine, a quote framed on the wall in elegant lettering:Onde o coração está, é onde está o lar.

Where the heart is, is where home is.

He probably used Google translate, or his assistant did ….But my heart is overwhelmed and I blink furiously, trying to fight back the tears that threaten to fall.

Such kindness and consideration …it chokes me.

Dexter thinks he’s being subtle, hiding how he feels behind rolled-up sleeves, and gruff one-liners, but it’s all bleeding through anyway.Like the scent of fresh paint, his intentions linger in the air, impossible to miss.He remembers things he shouldn’t.He cares more than he’s willing to admit, and it blows me away.

I want to throw my arms around him and fall into his chest.

I wish I could.

I swallow, trying soften the knot that forms in my throat.I felt so alone coming here, but these gestures from him soothe my hurt and loneliness in a way that I never expected.“Thank you.”

“Like I said, it’s just paint and a few pictures.”

“It makes me feel less homesick.”

A sliver of concern flashes through his eyes.“I guess this feels strange.Living here, away from your family, your friends…” He hesitates.“At least Raquel’s not too far.You’ll visit her often.”

I sigh.“I hope to, but she’s busy.Corporate lawyer, even though she found the time to crash our drinks evening, remember that?”

His lips curve slightly, and I think he’s going to bring up that night, when we were tipsy, when we got a little too close, when we kissed for the first time.But he doesn’t and we just stand there, the space between us small and filled with unspoken reminders of what could be.

He retreats into the hallway, into his safe space away from me.I nod.“I don’t cook much.I usually eat out, so I’m not sure what you want to do this evening.”

“I’m not hungry.Don’t let me ruin your evening.You just do what you normally do.”I don’t want to get in his way.Ruin his normal routine.He cocks an eyebrow.“Do what I normally do?What does that mean?”

I don’t understand why he’s so grumpy.I’m aware that this is his place, and I’m in the way.I don’t want to make him feel uneasy.

“It means ...just that.”

“What?”

I stare at the floor because I can’t bear to look at him.I can’t bear for him to see this would hurt me so much.We’re supposed to be following the rules.No emotions.No getting involved.No hint of a scandal.But we’ve already done things we weren’t meant to do.He’s a man with needs.Maybe he’s planning on getting those needs met.Just not from me.

“If you want to meet a woman, please just be discreet so that we can keep our happily married charade going.”My heart breaks just thinking about him with someone else.

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