She sucked in a hitching little breath. “I did call you, Ax. I called to tell you that you had a daughter. I at least wanted you to know so you could make the decision for yourself if you wanted to be—”

I shook my head furiously, and I felt more tears flying riotously from my cheeks. “No. No, Blaire. I waited for months—hell, for years—for a phone call from you, and it never came. That’s not something I would have forgotten, goddammit.”

Her eyes were on her hands as she picked at a nonexistent hangnail and spoke almost hesitantly. “I called you early on the morning Carrie was born. It was a Saturday. I thought you deserved to know, even if you rejected us again.”

Rejected them. That’s what she thought I did all those years ago. Fuck, I had been such a prick to her. “Maybe I was asleep. Did you leave a message or something? I swear, I never got a message.”

Blaire stared down at her hands, twisting fretfully in her lap. “I talked to your girlfriend,” she said quietly.

What the hell was she talking about? “I don’t do girlfriends, Blaire,” I said coldly. “Not since you.”

She looked up at me in surprise, and then her features hardened perceptibly. “Your hookup, then,” she spat. “Though she sounded very familiar with you, so I thought it was your girlfriend. You sounded… happy.”

I sat down beside her and took her hand. “I guarantee you, babe, happy was the last thing I was. And I didn’t have any hookups or girlfriends or anything for over a year after you left me. I didn’t so much as look at another girl, Blaire. Maybe you called the wrong number?”

“Axel, I heard your voice, and the girl said your name before she asked you to zip up her dress. Then you got on the phone, and… and I hung up. I didn’t want to be that ex who shows up with a baby and destroys your new relationship.”

“For God’s sake, Blaire. I told you. I didn’t have a fucking relationship with anyone.” I was getting frustrated with this round and round conversation.

“Not even Tiffany, the model?” she asked icily. “That’s what she said her name was when I asked.”

Tiffany? Oh. My. God. She thought… I couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up from my throat, and Blaire glared at me, trying valiantly to pull her hand away. I held it tightly and brought it to my lips even as she balled it into a fist like she wanted to punch me. “Blaire Bear, Tiffany is my cousin. My Aunt Tammy’s daughter. She stayed with me for a couple of weeks that December while she was waiting for her apartment to be ready.”

“Your cousin?” she asked, pinching her lips together in disbelief.