Page 84 of Sexting My Ex's Dad

I swing the door open, expecting to see a pizza delivery person holding our dinner, but instead, I’m met with a delivery man whose arms are full of bouquets of roses. My eyes widen as I take in the unexpected sight, and my mind races to make sense of the situation.

Maybe, he’s at the wrong address.

“Uh, is Ms. March here?” the delivery man asks hesitantly, looking at me for confirmation.Nope, this is the right address.

“Yes, I can take these for her,” I reply.

“Just sign here for me.” He holds out a notepad. Once I scribble my signature, he nods, hands me an envelope and briskly walks away.

Who’s sending Stella roses? For just a moment, I think about opening the note to find out, but I’m not that man - all insecure.

I close the door behind me. They had better not be from that Paul guy.

No, she’d told me that there was nothing going on between them, and I believe her. If she wanted him then she’d be with him. I’d seen the way he looked at her that night; he was smitten.

But, she didn’t pick him. She picked me.

Clutching the roses, I return to Stella, who is sitting on the mattress, her gaze following me with curiosity. “What are those?”

“That’s what I was going to ask you.” I set them down.

“They’re not from you?”

“Nope,” I answer. “Do you have a secret admirer or something?”

“They’re not a very good one.” She gets off the bed. “I don’t like roses. Let me see the card.”

I hand it out to her, and she quickly opens it, eyes scanning the information. Then, I see the frown overtaking her face.

“Who’s it from?” I ask, unable to stop myself. The thought of someone sending roses to Stella unsettles me, a feeling I haven’t experienced before.

She rolls her eyes and tosses the card onto the mattress, scoffing. “Owen,” she says with an exasperated sigh. “He’s trying to win me back, it seems.”

“Owen?” The name is like a punch to the gut, and I feel the air rush out of my lungs. “He’s back?”

“Yeah, he uh came by here,” she admits, avoiding my gaze.

“And you didn’t tell me?” I frown. “Why?”

“Because it doesn’t matter. We’re through.”

Her words don’t do much to ease my mind. I want to know everything about what happened when he visited her. “When did he come?”

She looks away, hesitating before answering. “A few days, maybe. He showed up at my old place, but I didn’t even let him in.”

My son had come to see her. Owen hadn’t even reached out to me. Wait a second…? “Is that why you decided to move?”

She swallows. “Yes.”

I clench my fists, feeling my nails dig into my palms. Inhaling deeply, I attempt to keep my composure.

“Are you okay?” Stella asks, concern flooding her hazel eyes as she touches my arm.

“What did Owen want?” I ignore her question, too concerned with my own.

She sighs, her delicate features pinched with annoyance. “He apologized for leaving like he did, and for all the pain he caused. Said he wanted to make it right because he wanted me back.” She shakes her head, her long, wavy hair cascading over her shoulders. “But I don’t want him back if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,”I clarify, my mind racing.