Page 105 of Sexting My Ex’s Dad

His gaze turns darker then softer. “And I’m so fucking proud of you I can barely sit still.”

The way he says it makes me forget to breathe for a second.

Nathan studies my face, and I can see the pain medication wearing thin around the edges of him, though he’s trying not to show it. “Athena,” he says, lower now. “You brought down Nate, Cindy, and Meredith in one sweep while I was lying here useless.”

“You weren’t useless,” I say immediately.

His mouth shifts. “I’m not saying that.”

I almost laugh then don’t. My eyes sting instead. “No,” I say softly. “You weren’t.”

He still has my hand in his. He rubs his thumb once over the inside of my wrist, and the gesture is so familiar now, so intimate, that my whole chest aches with it. “Are all the loose ends tied?”

I nod. “Meredith’s done. Cindy’s done. Nate confessed and implicated her. The fraud is exposed, the assault is exposed, and anything they still try to wriggle out of will happen with prosecutors on them, not me.”

Nathan watches me then leans back very slightly against the pillow. Some of the tension leaves his shoulders. Not all of it. That may never happen again. But enough. “And Ivy?” he says.

I smile then, helpless and tired and a little in love with the shape of his mouth around her name. “She wanted me to tell you goodnight.”

Something shifts in his face so fast it nearly wrecks me. His eyes close briefly, then reopen. “Did she.”

“She also approved the takedown in principle,” I add. “Very strong views on Nate smelling bad.”

Nathan lets out a real laugh then, brief and rough and warm. The sound goes straight through me.

“Smart girl,” he says.

“The smartest.”

Silence settles again, though this one is softer. I sit there holding his hand, looking at him, letting the reality of the last few days catch up in fragments. He’s here. He’s hurt, yet he’s here. Ivy knows. Nate is done. Cindy is done. Meredith is done. All the old poison finally has names and files and charges attached to it.

Nathan’s hand tightens around mine again, drawing my attention back to him. “Come here,” he says.

I stand and lean over him carefully, mindful of bruises, lines, stitches, all the ways his body is still paying for someone else’s cruelty. His free hand slides to the back of my neck, and he looks at me for one steady, burning second. “You scared me,” I whisper.

“You scared me right back,” he replies.

Then he kisses me.

It isn’t rough. It isn’t hungry in the way we usually are. It’s slow and careful and full of everything that had no room to breathe while we were busy surviving. His mouth moves against mine with the tenderness of a man who knows exactly how close he came to losing the chance, and I kiss him back with my hand cupped around his face and my heart somewhere in my throat.

When I pull back, he keeps me close for another beat, his forehead resting lightly against mine.

“I should be the one taking care of you tonight,” he murmurs.

I huff out a laugh. “Bold claim from a hospital bed.”

His mouth twitches. “Still true.”

I kiss him once more, soft and quick this time, then settle back into the chair. He watches me like he hasn’t quite decided I’m real.

“What happens now?” I ask.

Nathan’s gaze stays on mine. “Now,” he says slowly, “the people who spent years poisoning our lives answer for it. Meredith loses her job and whatever came with it. Cindy loses her game board. Nate loses the luxury of pretending he’s only weak when he’s actually dangerous.”

I nod. “And us?” I ask, quieter.

That changes him. The steel stays, yet something warmer moves under it.