Page 103 of Sexting My Ex’s Dad

Her whole expression changes. Relief first, then satisfaction, then something almost smug. “I knew it.”

Maya barks out a laugh. “God, I love this child.”

I finally straighten, though I keep one hand on Ivy’s back and the other on Maya’s arm for a second longer than necessary. The apartment feels warmer now, less like a hideout and more like a place where people can breathe.

“Sit,” Maya orders, pointing at the couch. “You are giving debrief energy, and I want front row seats.”

I let her boss me around since she’s earned it.

Ivy curls up beside me instantly, one leg folded under her, bunny back in place, eyes fixed on my face. Maya takes the chair across from us and tucks her feet under herself, and for a second the whole thing feels almost ordinary. Three girls in a room after a long day. Then I remember the warehouse, the lights, the cuffs, Nate’s face, Cindy’s voice, and the ordinary illusion cracks.

Still, this is where the story gets told.

“Nate showed up alone,” I begin, and Ivy’s chin lifts immediately. “Which was expected. He wanted to look brave before things got real.”

“Coward behavior,” Ivy says.

“Correct,” I reply.

Maya gestures with both hands. “Continue. I want details and also flavor.”

So I give them both.

I tell them about the warehouse, about the side entrance and the concrete and the way Nate tried to perform anger like it was power. I tell them how quickly he lost control once he realized I wasn’t bluffing, and how much faster he started talking once the police moved in. I tell them about Cindy waiting outside like she could still manage the whole situation from a safe distance, and how little that distance helped her in the end.

Ivy listens so hard she barely blinks.

“And Nate said it,” I finish. “Out loud. He admitted Cindy told him to scare Nathan, and then he admitted he did more than that. He handed them everything.”

Maya leans back and lets out a low whistle. “Beautiful. Idiot men remain the backbone of successful operations.”

Ivy frowns slightly. “What backbone?”

“The important part,” I say quickly.

She nods, accepting that for now. “So no more Nate the bad guy.”

I kiss the top of her head. “No more Nate the bad guy.”

She thinks about that, then nods firmly. “Good.”

There’s a knock of silence after that, quiet and full and tired in a way I don’t mind. I let my hand keep moving over Ivy’s hair, small repetitive strokes that soothe me at least as much as they soothe her.

Then Maya glances at the clock and raises an eyebrow. “You’re going to the hospital now, right?”

The question tightens something in my chest all over again. “Yeah,” I say softly. “I need to tell him.”

Maya nods like that was the only correct answer. “Then go. I’ll stay with her.”

Ivy twists toward me immediately. “Can I come?”

I look at her and see the hope there, the need, and the exhaustion underneath it. She’s been brave all day. Fiercer than any child should have to be. But she’s also fading now, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.

“Not tonight,” I tell her gently. “Tomorrow you can see him again. Tonight I need to talk to him first.”

She looks like she wants to argue then thinks better of it. “Okay,” she says, and her voice is small in a way that nearly undoes me. “Tell Daddy I said goodnight.”

The word still catches me hard. I nod and press my forehead to hers. “I will.”