Page 33 of Mistaken Identity
I couldn’t even tell them to Audric when he’d been the one to bring them up because he found it all.
Well, all that he could find.
He still didn’t know everything.
I hadn’t told him what happened after he’d left.
He’d only known what his computer genius had been able to find.
He didn’t know what I’d gone through before he’d found me.
After.
When I’d had Damon.
What I’d had to do when Damon’s grandfather had found out about Damon.
As in, drop all charges against his awful son so I could keep mine free of his son’s disgustingness.
“Uhh…” I hesitated.
“Tell me how your day has been so far,” he suggested.
I eyed the psychiatrist.
He was in his early forties, had graying brown hair at his temples, and laugh lines around his face. He looked like he played golf, because he was so damn tan all over, and my dad usually had the same tan lines.
His hands were white, likely from gloves being worn in the sun.
I relaxed slightly, but only just barely.
His question was easy enough, so I told him about my day.
At least, what I felt like sharing anyway.
It was my day off, and I’d spent time in my garden.
There really wasn’t anything he could extrapolate from my words.
He gently led me into other conversations, and before I knew what hit me, he asked, “Are you afraid of men?”
I blinked at him. “What makes you say that?”
“Your body language, how you scooted your chair away from me twice after originally moving it before sitting down. You eye the exit every few minutes, making sure it’s still where you last saw it and free of debris that might hinder an escape,” he mused, starting a gentle tap-tap with his pen.
I forced myself not to stare at that stupid pen.
I hated when people tapped.
Or shuffled.
I had a lot of hearing issues based mainly around the noises that grated on my nerves the most.
The only man I’d ever been around who hadn’t annoyed me with his endless annoying noises was the one I’d pushed away.
“I am not comfortable around men, no,” I admitted, hating the vulnerability in my voice, especially around a man I didn’t know.
Just because he had M.D. after his name didn’t mean that he was anyone special. Even doctors could harm if they wanted to. Eight years of schooling meant nothing if they were inherently a bad person.
