Mommy, Marry Daddy Again!

Rachael’s pov

Still half asleep, I blindly searched around the nightstand for my ringing phone.

“What?” I snapped into the receiver, still fighting sleep.

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

The groggy fog vanished the second his low, sharp voice hit my ear.

“Why are you... calling me?”

“I should be asking you the exact same thing, Rachael. Why am I the one having to call you?”

“Gabe.”

“I’m sitting in a board meeting, and I get a call from Leah’s school.”

The last traces of sleep evaporated as I shot up out of bed. “Shit.”

“That’s two times in a single month you’ve forgotten to pick up our daughter,” he growled. “Notice how I never get a call from you reminding me to grab her when it’s my weekend?”

My chest tightened.

I could already imagine Leah standing by the classroom door with that little pout of hers, saying, “This wouldn’t happen if I was with Dad, you know.”

“Thank you, Gabe,” I said tightly, slipping into my shoes. “You can get back to your very important job now. What was it again? Something involving yelling at executives and spinning around in your expensive rolling chair?”

I didn’t give him a chance to retort, relishing the petty satisfaction of hanging up in his face.

***

The car ride back home was painfully quiet.

Leah was sitting in the backseat- the first sign that she was furious with me. Actually, The first sign had been when I burst into her empty classroom spluttering apologies, and she’d walked right past me without a word.

“I’m so sorry, I tried to call your cell before I dialed her father, but I couldn't get through,” her teacher, Miss Cherry, had murmured apologetically. “He was next on her emergency contact list.”

“It’s fine,” I’d forced out, scrambling for an excuse. Working from home as an author meant I had zero excuse for being late to pick up my own child. My cheeks flushed. “Thank you so much, Miss Cherry.”

Now, glancing at my daughter through the backview mirror, I tried to break the ice. “How about we order takeaway tonight, sweetheart?”

Her bright blue eyes, so eerily similar to her father’s, shot up to meet mine in the mirror. She tilted her head. “You didn’t cook, did you?”

I gasped dramatically, feeling the tight knot in my chest loosen when a small smile tugged at her lips before rolling her eyes.

“How about chicken and chips?” I offered.

She gave a slow nod.

“Has anyone told you your hair looks pretty today?” Leah had long, waist-length blonde hair, just like mine used to be before I chopped mine into a bob and dyed it red. Her teacher had styled it into two French braids tied off with white and pink ribbons.

“Mom?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Can I stay home this weekend? Just this once?”

My fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

Leah loved going to her father’s house. In fact, she usually begged to stay extra days with him.

This was the first time she’d ever shown hesitation.

“Can I ask why, sweetheart?” I asked gently, watching her avoid my gaze in the mirror.

“Well… Daddy’s getting married.”

My foot slammed on the brake pedal.

The car screeched to a sudden, violent stop in the middle of the street. The driver behind us laid on their horn, swerving around my bumper with a muffled string of curses before he sped off.

I didn't even notice. I whipped around in my seat, checking frantically to make sure Leah was okay. Her seatbelt had caught her, though her arms were crossed tight over her chest as she gave me a knowing look.

“I’m sorry,” I breathed, easing the car back into gear.

“Mommy, why do you look like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like how you look when you accidentally delete a chapter from your book.”

“You don’t want to go to Daddy’s house because he’s getting married?” I asked, quickly steering the conversation away from my own expression as I resumed driving.

“It’s because of her,” Leah mumbled, wrinkling her small nose.

Leah didn't dislike people. At six years old, she was a bubbly, loving little girl who loved everyone she met. For her to dislike someone meant something was seriously wrong.

“What about her?”

Leah bit her bottom lip. “Daddy told me not to tell you.”

“Sweetheart...”

“I’m telling you because I want you to let me stay,” she admitted softly. “She’s really mean, Mommy.”

“In what way?” My brows furrowed into a hard line.

“Daddy lets her stay over. She wears a really big ring and invites her friends over to the house. She tells them she’s going to be the lady of the house and the CEO’s wife. They laugh at me. She also told her friends that when they get married, she’s going to...”

“She’s going to what?”

“She said she’s going to get rid of me.”

Who the hell did this bitch think she was?

“Mom!”

I snapped out of my dark thoughts, realizing I was gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles were white.

“Sweetheart, of course I’m not letting you go near that house,” I said, my voice shaking with restrained anger.

“It’s not just that,” Leah whispered.

“Then what is it?”

“Mommy... could you and Daddy just get married again, please? I don’t want Daddy to marry her.”