Page 10 of Love Below Zero

10

DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS

BECKY

Doctor Dick

We need to talk. Are you busy today?

That is not the kind of message I want to wake up to. After properly feeling sorry for myself last night, I ate a brownie and face-planted into bed. I didn’t want to deal with the world, and I especially didn’t want to deal with James, so I just mentally and physically checked out.

We need to talk. We’re leaving in two days, so we have to clear the air. He was partially right last night. He is second in command of the mission, and it is his job to make sure things go smoothly.

I roll over, pressing my face into the pillow. We have these two days off to finalise anything outstanding in our personal lives before leaving Earth for four months. While I am planning a hike tomorrow to get some last-minute vitamin D, I don’t have any plans for today. I sigh before texting him back.

Me

I’m going to the Book Lounge. Want to meet me there in 2 hours?

All I get back is a thumbs up. How articulate.

I push myself out of bed. I gave myself enough time to exercise and then shower before meeting James. I have to be calm during this exchange. Act like a professional and all that. I don’t need his opinion of me to get any lower, and at this point I really can’t afford the distraction. I have to use this time to write, something I still haven’t done.

My deadline is four months away and I’m in danger of losing my contract. James Reid is not a priority right now.

I don’t drink coffee, but something about the smell has always appealed to me. Especially when it’s paired with books and baked goods.

The Book Lounge is an indie bookstore in the heart of Cape Town, its shelves overflowing with both local and international titles. The basement holds a small working space and coffee shop. That’s where I park myself while waiting for James.

When I started with the autoimmune protocol diet, I avoided coffee shops like the plague. They were filled with all the wonderful things I couldn’t have, and putting myself within reach of that just seemed cruel. I still can’t have any pastries, thanks to gluten being a trigger for my migraines, but almond milk chai lattes are back on the table.

Footsteps sound down the stairs, and a few moments later Doctor James Reid appears around the corner. He’s dressed in his standard uniform. Black slacks, button-down shirt, tie. Heat creeps through me at seeing him in daylight after we were so close last night. It’s a mix of embarrassment and unwelcome want.

The man is unnecessarily attractive. Bill Nye the Science Guy, except hot. His glasses are slightly lopsided, and the simple act of him reaching up to correct them makes my stomach flutter.

I’m sure my therapist would have a lot to say about me being attracted to a man who constantly belittles and critiques me. Do I have a degradation kink? Daddy issues? Low self-esteem? The odds are high for all of those. I’m playing the world’s worst game of bingo right now.

Which one of your traumas is it today? Get four in a row and win big!

James spots me and walks over, his expression closed off.

“Rebecca.”

“James,” I say back coolly.

“This seat taken?”

I shake my head. “It’s all yours.”

He sits down, looking as uncomfortable as I feel. The silence stretches between us for a minute.

“You look well.”

It catches me off guard, and a bitter laugh bubbles up. “You mean I look thin.” It bothers me a lot when someone comments on my weight loss. It’s intended as a compliment, but my brain doesn’t interpret it that way. People don’t mean any harm when they say that. But every time someone comments on how thin I am now or how much weight I lost, it’s like they’re stabbing me with a small needle. Death by a thousand cuts.

I see the way people look at me now. Even people who’ve known me for years started treating me differently after the weight came off. I mourn for the girl I was before, the heavier one. Was I not worthy of being treated well back then? Am I really only worthy now that I’m thinner?

James frowns and shakes his head. “No, I meant you look well. Like you’re not about to pass out on me. You look like you feel healthy.”

I guess I can’t expect him not to notice my body, considering he was up close and personal with it last night. My weight loss is often automatically correlated to my health. I am thinner now, so therefore I must be healthier. And while I am healthier, it has nothing to do with the weight loss. That was a result of actively treating my disease, not just the symptoms.

“Thank you,” I say softly, and I’m rewarded with a small smile from him. I’ve never seen him smile. His face is usually serious when we’re working, and when we’re joking around, he has this slightly confused expression, like he doesn’t fully understand the joke.

He must smile sometimes though, since there are small laugh lines around his eyes. My fingers itch to trace those lines, and I promptly sit on my hands to stop them from committing traitorous acts.

A waitress comes by, smiling brightly at us. “What can I get you guys?”

“I’ll have an almond milk chai latte please.”

“Just a black coffee for me, thanks.”

I roll my eyes at him as soon as the waitress walks away.

“Seriously, black coffee? Why am I not surprised?” Only he would have the fortification to drink regular coffee.

He quirks a brow at me, but his eyes hold a spark of mischief .

“Normally I would have a double funfetti caramel latte, with sprinkles on top, but I don’t think this is that kind of establishment.”

“With sprinkles?” I gasp, feigning horror.

“Indeed.”

“Good god, man, don’t let the royal astronomy society find out about that—they’ll cancel your membership.”

“Now how do you know about that membership?”

“I read it on your faculty page.” I clamp a hand over my mouth. Did I just admit to my arch-nemesis that I stalked his faculty page? Not his LinkedIn, or Threads, but his actual faculty page?

I need to have a stern talk with myself about my mouth filter.

His head tips back, a laugh erupting from him.

I almost spontaneously combust.

How is it possible for him to be more attractive when he laughs? I want to bottle the sound and listen to it on repeat like a Taylor Swift song.

“I’m flattered, darling.”

I try not to let the use of the word “darling” in his posh accent get to me.

“Don’t take it personally, Doctor Reid. I stalked everyone on the mission.” That is true. Though I spent much more time on him than I am willing to admit.

“About that ...” He sits up straighter, fidgeting with the sleeves of his shirt. “I want to apologise.”

I blink at him. “For what?”

“My behaviour. For the video, and my subsequent behaviour. The review I made of your book was not done in good spirit, and I am sorry for the way things ... spiralled after that. ”

I sit back in my chair, too stunned to speak. Luckily, the waitress buys me a few seconds of thinking time as she brings over our drinks. I grab the chai, taking a sip even though it’s still too hot.

“You don’t have to forgive me,” he continues. “But I want you to know I am sincere before we embark on the mission.”

“I’m not sure what to say,” I admit. This is so far out of left field. If someone told me yesterday that Doctor James Reid would be apologising to me, I would have laughed at them.

“I understand that an apology means very little. If you’re willing to listen, I’d like to explain myself.”

You could honestly knock me over with a feather right now. Did I wake up in an alternate dimension this morning?

“Okay, go for it.”

He takes a deep breath, both his hands wrapping around his coffee mug. He has long, delicate fingers. A vein pops out on his right hand. For a second I kind of wish I was the coffee mug.

“I have trouble reading social situations and expressing myself. When I reviewed your work, I was only trying to educate. I realise I went about it in the wrong way.”

“You called my work unoriginal and derivative.”

His face pales a little. “I know. And I can only reassure you that I don’t see it that way anymore. I missed the subtleties of the story. I didn’t take the human element into consideration. I know better now.”

I’m getting something from my wildest dreams: an apology from a man, and acknowledgement of his idiotic behaviour. So why do I still feel like a heavy weight is still pressing down on my chest ?

He sounds sincere, so genuine. If I hadn’t watched the other reviews on his channel, the ones where he’s equally as hard on male authors, I wouldn’t have believed his apology.

But I had so much rage for him when his review came out. Now all of that rage just turns to exhaustion.

“You haven’t posted a video since. Why?” I am curious. His channel grew so fast, but he hasn’t taken advantage of it.

“I don’t like the type of people that video attracted. I realised my actions and words attracted them in the first place, so I took some time off to re-evaluate.”

Huh.

That is big of him to admit. Men in the sci-fi space never admit their flaws, much less reflect on them. I lean back in my chair, taking another sip of the chai.

“If your apology is genuine, I’d like to see you never talk about my books again, and I’d like for you to trust me as a member of this team. No more looming, Lurch.”

“No more videos, and no more looming. But I will do what it takes to ensure this mission goes smoothly.”

“So we’re in agreement. We keep things strictly professional between us.”

“Strictly professional,” he agrees, putting out a hand. I only think about it for a second before I take it, giving it a firm shake.

When we pull apart, my cheeks are on fire and my hand tingles.

This may have been a mistake.