Chapter 60: Safe, Soulful Gaze
- RAYA -
After sitting by the pool and enjoying the perfect weather of this day and the gentle fragrance from the flowers, I finally make my way back into the guest house and finish unpacking the rest of my things. The comments from my sister that were probably meant to be cautionary have faded, because the magic and peace of this place is stronger. And the magic of whatever is going on with Dex is stronger.
I can’t blame Rory for being worried, because this is truly a crazy situation. But it’s my crazy situation. It’s unlikely anyone else would be able to understand unless they were living it.
When I unpack my headphones, I do a little internal cheer. I hadn’t even thought to specifically ask for them, but I switch them on and sync with my phone and turn on the perfect soundtrack for this day—the dreamy, melancholic electronica that just makes everything seem right in the world. That’s also when I notice Dex’s text about leaving for awhile and to let him know if I need anything. He sent it an hour ago—probably when I was outside.
After reading the words over again and flipping up to see more of our conversations and the avocado gifs he prefers to send for some reason, I smile. My heart smiles. My everything smiles.
Once everything is put away and I slide the boxes into the corner, I lay back on the bed, fully-clothed, listening to music while the sun’s setting rays cast warm colors throughout the room. And it’s perfect. Just like Dex. Just like his house. This moment—despite the traumatic, horrifying events that have led to it—is somehow perfect. And that’s what I fall asleep thinking.
The dream I have this time is different. Dex and I are outside sitting in the grass in his mother’s garden. The crown of a tree overhead casts shade and patches of sun around us, and Dex is just smiling, sprawled on the ground, leaning on an elbow, gazing at me.
How can just the eyes of someone communicate so much? I have never seen anyone look at me the way Dex looks at me, and it’s not just this dream. I’ve noticed it several times now. I’m not even sure looking "at" is the correct way to characterize it. Because he’s not looking "at" me. He’s offering something... like a hand that is outstretched in invitation. He’s offering a chance to be known. A chance to be seen and understood for the deeper truths that can’t be viewed on the surface.
A safe, soulful gaze. That’s what Dex Mobius has.
I don’t wake up until dawn has started to lighten the sky. My headphones are still on with that soft, melodic playlist on repeat, and when I take them off birds are chirping out the window, already starting their day.
"That was a nice dream," I smile to myself, feeling like I’m still in it. Why was it so different from the rest?
There are two bathrooms in this house, and when I find the one with the bath and figure out how to work it, I take a long, warm, relaxing shower—the first since the accident that didn’t feel rushed. All the wounds are still tender, but the new ache of them is gone and dulled into something now on its way toward healing.
When I get back to the loft, there is a text from Dex. I wonder if we had the same dream again. One side of my mouth quirks up into a smile.
’I’m leaving for the office. Have a nice day, Raya. Call me if you need anything.’
I groan in happiness, a sweet ache that is becoming more familiar scattering its rays across my chest, dancing brilliantly against the ache of loneliness that has always been there.
’Thank you. Enjoy work.’
And then I lay sprawled out on my back with my hands and arms extended, welcoming this feeling home.
- DEX -
Walking into the office, everything feels so much lighter than before. The dream last night was different, and I’m trying not to dwell on it too much. Because it felt like instead of a physical exchange between Raya and I, it was something so much deeper. It was soulful.
At some point, I’m going to have to ask her out. I’m just not sure how to do that without seeing that flash of fear that I saw in her eyes yesterday.
"Laurel, when the counselor gets here, will you have him set up in one of the empty offices? I plan on addressing everyone about it shortly."
Laurel listens intently and nods. "Of course."
"Thank you."
Lawson is already in his office, which is perfect because I want to get this over with.
"Morning, brother," he grins when I walk in. He’s much happier to see me today than last week, and apparently our disagreement about the counselor hasn’t soured his mood for the day.
"There’s something really important I want to talk to you about, Lawson," I tell him, bypassing the pleasantries.
"I’m just responding to some emails..." he glances back at his screen.
"It will only take a moment."
I walk out of his office and into mine so that he’s forced to follow me. After setting down my bag, I glance out the transparent walls where the larger office area is mostly obstructed from view. Lawson leans against the frame of our adjoining door, trying to mask his annoyance.
"My office is bigger," I notice, eyes sweeping over the sofa against a wall and the rest of the conference table that extends past the portion I’m using as a desk.
"Your office wasn’t an office."
"But it is now." I can’t help but give him an arrogant smile. It’s not a game I care about: size. But Lawson does.
"What’s so important?" He asks impatiently, and I gesture toward one of the chairs across from me.
Once he’s seated and I’ve succeeded in bringing him out of the comfort of his own space, I sit back and stare at him. There was a time when we were close, and you would think that the threat of losing our father would bring us closer. But obviously Lawson feels the threat of losing his promotion to CEO more significantly.
"It’s about us. When you attempt to undermine me, you are undermining the company and our father’s wish for how it will continue. Internal conflict is only going to make us weaker, Lawson."
"How am I attempting to undermine you?" He scoffs with a crooked, arrogant smile.
"Any way you can."
He doesn’t say anything, but his smile slowly vanishes, and he stares back with eyes that suddenly appear vacant. The facade is gone, and what’s left in its absence is an emptiness that almost makes me feel sorry for him.
"Let’s work together," I suggest, leaning forward now, and I see a flicker of something in that emptiness—like a spark of hope. Maybe there is a part of him that still wants for us to be able to do that. "It’s not too late."
"Of course it’s not too late." The crooked smile returns, but his eyes stay blank. It’s eerie. "That’s what we’re doing: working together. That’s what this is."
"What this is," I pause, my voice lowering, "is you playing a game and thinking I don’t know about it. I want us to work together, but if I find out you have crossed a line with one of these employees, you will be gone without notice. This is your warning."
When he doesn’t say anything, his jaw only clenching as he continues to stare vacantly back at me, I add: "Stay away from Auraya Gray."
