So, I got up and walked over to her.
She only noticed me once I spoke, seeming startled. Though her smile was genuine, a fresh batch of tears started to slide from her eyes.
I sat down across from her and managed to ask her one question before it all came tumbling out. “Are you okay?”
She told me about her boyfriend who’d been belatedly diagnosed with a rare type of cancer. That, by the time it was found, it was already too late. He’d died two weeks prior.
And she learned she was carrying his child.
It was terrible to think it, but it was nice to hear someone else’s tragedy; it took my mind off my own. Between Noa being gone and Molly being sick, I felt like my limbs were made of stone, like I was the heaviest person in the world. Like my spirit was being ground into dust and I was in danger of blowing away in the breeze.
Friendship with Rachel came easily after that. She was sweet and the larger her belly grew, the more hopeful I felt for a life after Noa.
When Phoebe was born, I was there.
When Rachel fretted over Phoebe not having a father, I stood in, vowing to be that and more for the baby. After all, Phoebe brought me back to life. My love for her filled a lot of the emptiness inside me.
On Phoebe’s first birthday, when Rachel asked me out to dinner, I agreed, thinking it was the natural next step for us.
She was charming; I was polite. And it didn’t take long before we were finding solace in the other’s body.
Memories rolled around in my mind and I wondered if this was it. But…after experiencing the greatest love of my life, it couldn’t be.
It only took a few months for me to end it with her. Though I was respectful and promised it wouldn’t affect our co-parenting, I didn’t miss the way she looked at me, or the way her fingers gripped my arms—willing me to stay.
Ultimately, I left.
I wasn’t supposed to be with her, and I was a fool to think I could’ve been.
All through these major life events, Noa was there. When I woke up, when I went to sleep, when I was happy, when I was sad. She lived and breathed, if only in my memories.
I wanted her to know Phoebe, to experience the joys of parenthood—with me.
Her ghost was more real to me than anything Rachel and I experienced in our short-lived romance.
Dexter
I didn’t know what I was going to say as I pulled into Rachel’s parents’ driveway. The sun’s rays glared off the top of my car and I exhaled as I pulled my key from the ignition. It was time to address the past, something I’d avoided doing—even when Rachel acted inappropriately.
But I wasn’t going to be the guy who sacrificed peace of mind for peace with my child’s mother. Not anymore.
Not with Noa and another child on the line.
Phoebe was riding her tricycle in the front yard and I greeted her with a smile and a kiss. She tried to ask me to play with her, but I assured her that when her mother dropped her off, I had fun plans in store. Her eyes pleaded but the sound of her grandmother offering to take her for ice cream had her forgetting all about me as she rushed to her.
Rachel’s mother stood from watering her plants as I neared.
“Hey, Nan. Where’s Rachel?” I asked, my hands on my waist and my eyes on my feet before I looked up at her again. I could only imagine what I looked like. Tired, dirty, and a little on edge. If she saw it, she didn’t mention it.
“In the kitchen. I’ll take this one off your hands,” she answered, smiling down at Phoebe as the little girl jumped up and down in front of her. “But first, we have to wash up.”
“Thanks,” I told her before I headed inside and took the sharp left that would land me in the kitchen.
I heard Phoebe rush upstairs as I caught sight of Rachel. She was at the sink, washing dishes. When I called her name lightly, she dropped the plate she’d been working on, shattering it.
I rushed up to her when I heard her suck in a breath. “Did you cut yourself?” I peered into the sink, watching as she reached for the pieces with a nervous laugh. Sure enough, red liquid made its way down the drain.
“It’s nothing,” she said as she dumped the ceramic remains into the trash. She grabbed a rag and covered her hand before leaning over to turn off the water. When she faced me, she looked fatigued—and I wondered if she knew why I was there.
She had to have known this day would come. I’d been dealing with Rachel long enough to notice the calculation in her eyes. She was sweet. But she was the kind of sweetness that rotted you, like sugar did teeth.
There was always something beneath her that made it impossible to know what she was thinking.
But she deliberately lied to Noa. I didn’t have the full story, but in the current situation, it didn’t really matter to me.
“So, you told Noa I asked you to marry me.” I sat at the kitchen table, afraid I’d pace a hole into the ground if I didn’t, and she opened her mouth. “That wasn’t a question, Rachel.” She closed her mouth quickly, like she’d been taken aback. “Why’d you do it?”
She clenched her cloth-covered hand and eyed the window where I could hear her mother puttering around outside, undoubtedly waiting for Phoebe. Her eyes flicked back to mine.
I was growing impatient. “That was a question,” I bit out.
“I can’t do this, Dex. I can’t talk about this with you right now.” She looked at the cracking linoleum and blinked a few times before moving to return to the dishes.
The sound of Phoebe bounding down the steps and rushing out of the house had me pausing before I continued. “You can’t talk to me? You owe it to me, Rachel,” I whisper-shouted.
How could she have done this to me?
“I don’t owe you anything, you selfish bastard. I’ve waited. I’ve been good to you. I gave you a child—something that woman couldn’t do. Yeah, I heard about the baby she lost. I overheard Tracey talking about it. But I guess that doesn’t matter since she’s pregnant now, huh?” She was holding her injured hand against her chest, which was expanding and retracting with her frustration.
I was out of my seat and in her space before she could finish her question, my arms keeping her against the sink. I noticed the way her skin flushed, but I ignored it. “Watch what you say. Especially when you have no idea what you’re talking about.” I clenched my fists, though I would never hit Rachel.
I still cared about her. But, this wasn’t the woman I’d learned to care for. Callous remarks tossed out so carelessly…she’d never spoken to me like that before.
Then again, I’d never raised my voice to her as high as I’d just done. This wasn’t the us I was used to.
“Yeah? Why’d you guys break up? I heard you talking to Tracey, Dex. She hid a child’s existence from you! And we have a family! How could that ring not be for me?” Her eyes were shining, and her quivering lips pinched together after a moment. “I didn’t know she was pregnant when she showed up!”
And then, I knew. She’d gone through my things, found the ring, and had it on— playing house in the home I’d let her make herself too comfortable in.
But I also knew we’d been down this road before.
I couldn’t…