It was always fascinating to watch Alex work. To listen to how she would repeat things, the reporter in her. Alex had always been a verbose person ever since he'd met her. Then again, eleven phone calls would make someone think that about a person. So would twelve the following time he'd been absent from contact. He watched as her face tinted at the mention of a bathroom and wondered if this was what she was usually like. When he wasn't around. It irritated him that there were apparent months that she believed she lived, months where he wasn't and didn't know about.

He couldn't help wondering if that was how she felt when he'd disappeared to see Charlie.

He didn't regret it, Charlie was his daughter, and he loved her; no matter how estranged they were. Alex understood that, which was something appreciated, no, loved about her. He was drawn back as she was talking about noisy neighbors. "No neighbors." He refused to be around anyone that would try and talk to him. It was annoying.