Page 89 of Sexting My Ex’s Dad

The drive to Beacon Harbor Medical Center feels incredibly jarring now that the pieces are coming together. Cindy and Meredith are best friends. Nathan was attacked near Hawthorne. Meredith wanted me out. Cindy didn’t want me in Nathan’s life.

Daniel navigates quickly, and I watch the city move past the window with a strange detachment, like Boston is a place I used to live in and now it’s a place that’s holding my breath for me.

When the hospital comes into view, my grip tightens on my bag strap. Daniel parks in a visitor area, then he leads us in through the main doors, and the smell hits first, antiseptic and coffee and that faint metallic undertone busy hospitals always have.

Ivy’s fingers clamp around mine. “Mom,” she whispers, eyes huge.

“I’m here,” I tell her quietly. “Stay close.”

We ride the elevator up, and Daniel keeps his badge visible at every checkpoint. The doors open onto a quieter hall, and the noise changes into muted voices and soft monitor beeps.

Daniel stops outside a room and turns to me. “He’s tired,” he says. “The tubes will look worse than they are. He’s still him.”

I nod once, then I look down at Ivy. “Ready?”

She swallows hard then nods. “Ready,” she says, even though her voice trembles.

Daniel opens the door, and my world shifts in one breath.

Nathan is in a bed that looks too clinical for a man like him. There are monitors, there’s an IV, and bruising shadows on one side of his face. His eyes are closed at first, and my heart stutters like it forgot its job.

Then his lashes lift, and his gaze finds me immediately. “Athena,” he whispers, voice rough.

My knees threaten to fold, so I brace my hand against the foot of the bed as I step closer. “I’m here,” I manage, voice breaking. “I’m here.”

His eyes move past me.

Ivy takes one step forward then stops as if she hit an invisible line. She stares at him like she’s trying to match him to a thousand tiny clues.

Nathan’s gaze softens in a way I’ve never seen in a trauma bay. “Hi,” he murmurs. “Sweetheart.”

Ivy’s mouth opens then closes again. She looks at me, then back at him, then she takes another step. “You’re my dad,” she blurts.

Nathan blinks hard once, eyes wet, control visible in the effort. “Yes,” he says, and the word comes out raw. “I am.”

Ivy rushes forward, careful around the lines, and wraps her arms around his arm like she’s claiming what she can. Nathan’s hand lifts slowly, unsteady, then settles on the back of her head with a tenderness that makes my vision blur.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and it isn’t clear who he’s apologizing to.

I lean in and press my forehead to the edge of the mattress for a second, then I force myself upright. “You’re not allowed to leave,” I tell him, voice tight.

Nathan’s mouth curves faintly then pain tightens his face. “Noted.”

Ivy lifts her head and glares at him like she’s in charge now. “You have to listen,” she says. “Mom said we came to save you.”

Nathan’s eyes flick to me, and the softness in them nearly wrecks me.

Daniel clears his throat gently. “I’m going to take Ivy to get something to eat,” he says. “Cafeteria food exists. Gift shop snacks exist. Pick your poison.”

Ivy’s eyes widen. “Can I get a stuffed animal?” she asks, hopeful.

Daniel nods. “One,” he replies, then he looks at me. “Two minutes.”

I nod, and Ivy looks at Nathan once more before she lets Daniel guide her out.

When the door closes, the room feels smaller. I step closer to the bed and keep my voice low. “Who did this?”

Nathan’s gaze holds mine then flicks toward the door as if he’s checking Ivy’s distance. “I don’t know,” he says, then his hand shifts and his face tightens. “I came back to town and I went out that evening. Someone hit me from behind. It was planned.”