Aron had been texting her at least twice a day for the last five days. After the Nicolet dinner party, he actually called a few times a day, but when he realized Nevaeh wasn’t going to answer, he resorted to texts, probably hoping she would at least read what he wanted to say. But she didn’t bother looking at them. When the messages came through, her finger slid automatically to the delete button. Right now, she didn’t care what he had to say. There wasn’t anything he could say that would change a damn thing, nor would pull her out of the personal hell she was in.
Despite what Merch had said, to be patient and try to support Aron while he was trying to figure out his own s**t with his father, she needed time to simmer and think about everything herself. To figure out if it was wo
