when he had this empty space eating away inside him, and no knowledge about who he really was?
Nausea poured through him. His heart pounded in his chest. Sweat broke out on his brow. The cabin suddenly seemed small and stifling.
Trust me, Bec.
Self-loathing poured through him. He’d just hurt the one person in the entire world he’d tried to heal and protect.
SLEEP VANISHED INSTANTLY as the smile on Tom’s face contorted to a painful grimace. Bec sat up, immediately on full alert. ‘Are you OK? You look really pale.’
He lifted her off his chest and slid off the bed, keeping his back to her. ‘Fine. I’m fine. You need to get up and get ready.’
A shiver of cold ran through her. Yesterday he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her. This morning it was as if she was noxious. Don’t be ridiculous. This is Tom.
He started shoving his few clothes into his backpack. ‘We’re docking really soon. I’ll take Trang to the hospital and then I have to go to the X-ray ceremony. I have to be back in Hanoi by tonight.’
The streaks of cold froze inside her. ‘Hang on. What’s this “I have to go to the ceremony". Shouldn’t that be “we“?’
His shoulders stiffened. ‘Yes. Sorry. I’m just used to doing things on my own.’ He tossed her clothes to her, his face a blank mask. ‘Please, get dressed.’
She pulled the trousers and blouse over her underwear, gaining much-needed dignity as well as clothing. She stood up on wobbly legs as the boat continued to pitch. ‘Tom, what’s going on?’
Pain slashed his face. ‘I’m sorry, Bec.’
The words ripped through her, leaving a trail of bleeding destruction in every part of her. Her mind battled her body, not wanting to believe the change in him. There must be a reason. ‘Sorry for what, Tom?’ Please, don’t say yesterday.
‘Yesterday. I’m sorry for yesterday.’
Her legs gave way and she sat on the bed, her hands gripping the edge of the mattress. ‘Exactly which bit of yesterday are you sorry for?’
The skin tightened across his high cheekbones, taut with tension. ‘I shouldn’t have made love to you.’
Her heart shuddered. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her mind clear, not letting her pain swamp her. ‘Why not? We’re consenting adults.’
Deep furrows scored his brow. ‘Yes, but I think you’ve attached more to it than just a romp in the sand.’
He knew she loved him.
Bile scalded the back of her throat. Her body shivered uncontrollably. Wrapping her arms around herself, she threw her head up and stared into eyes that projected sympathy overlaid with guilt. She forced her words out against a constricted throat. ‘And you haven’t attached anything to it?’
Remorse blazed across his face. ‘No. I can’t attach anything to it. I can’t love you.’
Her heart shattered, searing her with burning pain. She’d trusted him. Trusted him with her story, with her friendship. Like every other man she’d known, he’d taken her trust and discarded it, as if it had no value. It was as if she’d put her hand up and said, ‘Use me.’
She gasped for breath as blackness swirled in her mind. Why, after eight years, had she dropped her guard and opened herself up for this? Stupid, stupid girl.
Men could not be trusted. Men abused. Men took. Men …
No!
This is Tom.
From the moment he’d met her he’d looked out for her. He’d insisted she pace herself workwise, he’d quietly cared for her in so many ways. He’d held her when she’d been sick, had been outraged by her father, and he’d offered her unconditional friendship. He was the most caring, gorgeous man she knew.
Yesterday he’d looked into her soul, his eyes full of reverence and adoration. Pure lust did not look like that. She had not been mistaken. There had been far more to it than just a romp in the sand.
So why was he denying that? Why was he was acting like a jerk? None of this made sense. She frantically gathered the shards of her dignity and her self-worth, forcing them together so she could get to the bottom of this and fight for something worth saving. Show him they had something worth saving.
She breathed in deeply asking the hardest question of her life. ‘Why can’t you love me?’
He spun away from her, aching inside, hating himself for putting her through this. ‘You know why.’
‘No, I don’t think I do know why. Please, explain it to me.’ Pride carried the words around the cabin.
He jerkily pulled the drawstring on his pack. ‘My life is complicated. I’ve told you that.’
‘I think you’re making it way more complicated than it needs to be.’
Each softly spoken word pierced him, hammering at everything he knew about himself. He turned to face her. She sat pale, calm and implacable, her chin jutting forward in her familiar and determined way.
He needed her to understand. Needed her to forgive him. ‘Half of me is missing. I can’t love anyone when I’m not complete myself.’
Her nostrils flared. ‘Half of you is not missing. You’re all here. You are the sum of your biological and adopted parents. Your birth parents gave you great DNA and your Australian parents gave you love and values. You’ve been blessed, Tom Bracken.’
Anger flared at her dismissal of his feelings. ‘I have a family out there somewhere that I don’t know. A heritage that is vacant.’
She didn’t flinch at his exasperation. Large eyes stared him down. ‘No one’s life is perfect. No one’s parents real or imaginary, ever live up to expectations, Tom. You’ve woven a dream around a family you want to find. But you also have a loving family in Australia you haven’t seen in two years. You have a heritage with them. A family history. Don’t turn your back on all that for a pipe dream.’
Resentment coiled in his gut as her words gnawed at him. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t turned my back on my parents. Hell, they encouraged me to come here and work and to look for my mother.’
A sad smile of understanding tugged at her lips. ‘Of course they did. They love you and want to support you. They can see you’re struggling and they want you to find some peace.’
He snorted in derision. ‘Peace. How can I have peace when I don’t know if I’m Australian or Vietnamese? When I feel disconnected, no matter where I am?’
A wry expression crossed her face. ‘Hey, you don’t have to be adopted to feel disconnected
