Page 25 of Life To My Flight

“Hey,” I said hesitantly. “What are you doing here?”

Cleo’s eyes immediately fastened on the baby, and his brows furrowed.

Then a look of horror, and sudden realization hit him.

“What have you done?” He whispered.

Confused, I looked down at the little girl and then back to him before asking, “What do you mean, what have I done?”

“I listened to all the messages you left me. Each and every one. If you’d have just said, I would’ve called back. I would’ve never left,” he growled.

“What’re you talking about?” I snapped. “Seriously, you’re freaking me the fuck out.”

I was flustered, and now I was angry.

What was he going on about?

“You kept my own freakin’ kid from me!” He bellowed.

The mild mannered man I’d never seen raise his voice, even once, yelled at me.

Yelled at me.

“What kid?” I asked.

“That kid!” he bellowed, pointing to a fascinated Marie.

I set Marie down in her playpen, thankful she’d stopped crying for the moment, and turned to the daft man.

“Are you drunk? On drugs?” I asked walking up to him and putting my hand on his forehead.

He backed off from my touch.

I told myself that it didn’t hurt that he flinched at my touch, but I was lying.

“Tell me,” he hissed.

***

Cleo

It all made sense.

A lot of sick sense.

I’d been disappointed when she’d stopped calling me.

I’d kept every single voicemail she’d ever left me, and when I started to get low, I’d listen to them just to hear her voice.

I’d thought that I’d been the one to give up on the relationship, but apparently she had to.

We had a kid together.

A kid that looked exactly like my sister’s kids did.

My stomach was roiling at the thought of Rue keeping that from me. Then I berated myself.

I’d had just as much a part of it as she did, if not more.

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