Money is tight. The government gives limited amounts and research absorbs money like a bushfire absorbs oxygen. My old school connections come in handy sometimes and I don’t apologise for that. I use them to my advantage when I need to.’
An ugly silence settled over them. Meg was physically warm but his words sent shards of ice through her. She’d deliberately been aggressive, so determined to make him the same as Graeme, so determined to protect herself, that she’d been judge and jury with scant evidence.
From the moment they’d met, he’d only been polite and considerate despite the fact she knew she’d been deliberately chilly toward him. He’d put her first so often since the crash, tried to protect her, kept her warm, drawn her out on her life to keep her mind off the situation they found themselves in.
And he was right—she’d jumped to conclusions based on an old festering hurt. She thought she’d moved beyond that pain. Dismay filled her at the knowledge that it still coloured her judgement. She prided herself on being egalitarian but the truth was that since Graeme she no longer trusted. She’d lashed out in self-defence…but she was fighting the wrong person. She needed to be fighting her own prejudice.
‘You’re right. I’m sorry. I had no right to say those things. I know nothing about you except you ski and you’re a doctor.’
His hands balled into fists by his side. ‘Apology accepted.’
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