The words make sense, and I don’t need to tear Stacey down to stand with him. The boundary is enough.
He exhales, some of the tightness easing. “She said she’s been clean a while.”
“And has she shown that to anyone official?” I ask gently.
His mouth flattens. “No.”
I let a beat pass before I speak again.
“She shouldn’t get access without following the proper channels,” I say carefully. “That’s not up for debate.”
He nods once, pursing his lips as he stares at the floor.
“But…” I hesitate, choosing my words carefully because this isn’t my history to rewrite. “If sheissober, and if she wants to prove that properly, maybe there are safe ways to let her try.”
His eyes drag back up to mine, and he folds his arms, listening.
“Supervised visits,” I continue softly. “Short ones, in public places. Somewhere you control.”
He doesn’t shut me down, but his shoulders remain tight as he watches me.
“She doesn’t get alone time,” I add immediately. “And she doesn’t get to skip steps just because she showed up crying at a school.”
He runs a hand through his hair, and his eyes move back to the floor, as though he’s mulling my words over.
“She tried to grab my arm,” he mutters.
“I know.”
“And I’m not letting her corner you,” he says, eyes snapping back to mine.
“You won’t have to.”
There’s a silence as he bites the inside of his cheek for a moment before he huffs out a breath.
“She’ll say I’m controlling it,” he says.
“You are,” I answer. “You’re controlling it because you have to, and because she hasn’t earned anything different, and because you’re the best dad possible for Elle.”
He studies me for a long second. “You don’t hate her.”
“Well, I don’t know her. I just think…” I glance toward the hallway where Elle’s laughter drifts faintly through the house. “If there’s a safe way for Elle to know her mom… maybe that matters.”
His throat works as he swallows, and his gaze drops back to the floor, then back to me.
“I don’t want you thinking I’m shutting her out because of our history,” he says. “This isn’t about me being angry.”
“I know.”
He exhales, scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “It’s about keeping her safe.”
“I care about keeping her safe, too,” I whisper, holding his gaze. “She’s not just a job to me, or some kid I watch between nine and three. She matters to me,” I say. “I love her.”
The words sit there between us, and I don’t take them back. Evan’s eyes flicker to mine with surprise, followed by something warmer. He hesitates for a second, then steps closer to me, close enough that I can feel the heat of him through the cotton of his T-shirt.
“She’s easy to love,” he says quietly.
My throat tightens around the next thing before I can catch it. “And you, I—”
