Xander was up every three to four hours last night. Finally, I gave him a bottle at eight this morning, and afterward, we both fell back to sleep. The phone’s caller ID tells me it’s Dana calling, and at the sight of her name, last night’s events come crashing back into my mind and I’m furious again. “What?” I answer through gritted teeth. “Max?” She sounds scared; it’s the correct emotion. She should be fucking terrified of me right now. "I know you’re probably pissed at me but …” “Pissed?” I say disbelievingly. Pissed doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what I feel for her right now. Enraged would be more like it. “Bitch. You better pray you never see me again because I’ll show you pissed.” “I was just having a bad day. Being around Keri’s boy … yesterday was two weeks since she died. I guess it just got to me.” How dare she fucking remind me of what yesterday was? As if I could ever forget, as if I don’t live with that shit every day.
