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She closed the door behind her and followed me, throwing her keys at me when I climbed under the covers. “Dexter Andrews.”
I peeked up at her. “Yes,” I answered, willing her to get on with whatever tirade she was bringing to my front door and into my bedroom.
“Rachel called me. She’s hysterical, you know.”
I groaned and ducked under the covers. “Stop answering her calls, Aunt Tracey.”
“She’s Phoebe’s mother. You vowed to help her raise that child. You can’t just walk away from that.” She grabbed her keys from the floor where they’d slid.
“Damn it, I’m not!” I whipped the covers off and glared at the woman in front of me. “I’m not wrong here. She lied to Noa. She told her we were getting married. Noa had come to tell me she was pregnant, and Rachel chased her away.” I sat up, running my fingers through my hair, ready to finish this conversation.
“You thinkRachelran her off? You did when you left her! Rachel just made it easier for her to stay away. It gave her a reason. But you gave her will to. You’re the one who made her leave. If you hadn’t left her the way you did—bothtimes—she would’ve stuck around and fought for you. And don’t you ever raise your goddamn voice at me again!” She stomped out of my room and a few moments later, I heard my front door slam.
I flopped back on the bed, feeling like shit.
I stood by what I said. Rachel was at fault here.
But if Aunt Tracey flew out here just to tell me I was wrong, I had to recognize the truth in her words.
I picked my cell up off the nightstand, seeing a few missed calls. All from Rachel. I pressed the call button and on the third ring, she answered.
“Dex?”
Nothing—I felt nothing. Recognition, but nothing close to what I felt whenever Noa said my name.
Dexter.
I sighed. “You back home?” I asked Rachel, leaning forward and placing my hand on my face, my elbow meeting my knee.
“Uh, yeah. We got in last week.” She paused before finishing. “Phoebe’s been asking about you.”
Thatmade me feel something. “Can I pick her up? I have to go out of town tomorrow, and I feel like shit for not seeing her these last few days.”
Silence followed.
I heard the slight static of our connection, so I knew she hadn’t hung up on me. “Rachel?”
“Are you going to go see Noa?” she asked, and my brow furrowed.
I blinked at the sound of her name.
Rachel was going to make this difficult.
“I don’t see how that concerns you,” I said, willing her to drop it.
“It concerns our daughter. I won’t have her around an alcoholic,” she said.
She wasn’t going to make this difficult.
She was going to make this a nightmare.
“Rachel. You know she hasn’t had a drink in years. She’s been around Phoebe already.”
“Yes, well, I’m her mother, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to have her hanging around someone who flits in and out of your life as she sees fit,” she said, and I heard Phoebe cry in the background.
“But you were perfectly fine before,” I reminded her.
“I just don’t think it’s in Phoebe’s best interest,” she countered, further pissing me off.
