Tammy was right. It hadn’t taken Rachel long to start sniffing around after hearing that my partner was a woman. She’d make little remarks after she met Tammy—mentioning her good looks, her nice clothes—in a way that was laced with accusations. But Rachel and I weren’t even together at the time, just co-parenting.
“It isn’t like I never noticed it. I just didn’t think it affected me. I wasn’t sleeping with her at the time, I wasn’t involved with her in that way.” Hell, within the few months I did give us a shot, we were rarely physical. It just wasn’t…right.
Not like it was with Noa. I couldn’t ever keep my hands off Noa.
The image of her body, pliant and smooth beneath me, had my breath caught in my chest. Teenage Noa had been the stuff of my dreams when I was younger. In my car when I’d gotten a taste of heaven under her shirt. Supple against me that night at the lake house. Or anytime I saw her. Anytime I touched her.
But Noa as a woman, the way we loved each other, years later…
Just the thought had me pausing, my gut clenching. The way she took what I gave her, in whatever way, whatever position, her eagerness spurring me on, her nails at my skin.
Shit.
I shuffled some papers around, feeling like I couldn’t get a grip on what was in front of me.
Sex with Noa had always been so all-consuming.
Which was likely why I’d been moronic enough to never question protection on my end. Maybe she wanted another child after losing Anna. Maybe she was always just as caught up in the moment as I was. Maybe her birth control failed.
But how was I to know?
“So, what now?” Tammy inquired.
I dropped the façade and looked at Tammy.
“I don’t know. I usually have a plan but…I’ve got nothing. Noa won’t see me. Rachel is delusional. I don’t know anything, and my hands are tied because I’m here. On top of it all, I’m still dealing with my own shit. Molly dying and finding out about Anna.” I pounded my fist on the smooth cherry wood before running my hands over my face.
I wasn’t used to being vocal about my feelings. The only person I’d ever confided in was Ralph and even when talking to him, we didn’t hit on the heavy things.
I missed companionship. I missed Noa.
But Tammy had a great ear and even greater advice at the ready. “I don’t mind picking up the slack, Dex. But you have to promise you won’t go crazy or have a heart attack.” She stood and walked over to me, placing her hand on the clear space on the desk beside me and leaning against it.
“I can’t have you do that again,” I said as I shook my head. It was hard enough for her when I took some time off after finding out about Anna.
“No offense, but you’re really of no use to me here in the state you’re in. Take a few days, figure things out, and come back.”
I remained silent, and she knocked her knuckles against my desk and said, “I’ll see you in a few days, Dex.”
I woke the next morning to someone pounding on my door. With a groan, I rolled out of bed and ambled toward the incessant sound. I had to blink past the brightness to focus on Tracey standing on my doorstep, a frown on her face and her hands on her hips. I hadn’t known she was in town, but I was too tired to look surprised.
“Don’t tell me you’re upset with me too,” I said. My voice was deep from sleep and I wanted to head right back to bed. So, I did.
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 think Rachel ran 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—both times—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.”
That made 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.
“Liar,” I bit out. “We both know what this is about.”
The burn of rejection.
“I have no reason to lie,” she said loudly.
“You never needed a reason. I’ll swing by around three to pick Phoebe up.” I quickly disconnected the phone and set it down on my nightstand before doing something stupid—like chucking it across the room.
Dexter
It had been too soon. There was no way Noa would agree to it. But even as I stood on the threshold of her apartment, nervous because she hadn’t answered my calls all afternoon, I felt so sure.