If you’d told me two months ago, I’d be up at seven on a Sunday morning teaching a kid the latest Kidz Bop moves, I would have rolled my eyes. If you had told me I would be doing it because a kid I’m totally crazy about texted me forty-five minutes ago and said he couldn’t sleep and asked me to come over, I would have laughed in your face. But, here I am with Anthony, learning the moves to Meghan Trainor’s “All About That Bass.”

And I’m happy as shit he found his mom’s phone and texted me instead of waking his mom or grandmother up. He wanted me, which makes me feel like I won the lottery.

I’ve always wanted kids, but thought it wouldn’t ever happen. And I know he’s not technically my kid, but getting to know him as part of my reconciliation with Milly has been one of the best things that has ever happened to me. He’s a great kid.

Milly’s still asleep and so is her mother, so when I hear the backdoor to the kitchen open, I get up and rush to the kitchen expecting to find an intruder. Anthony is completely absorbed in the cartoon and didn’t appear to hear the door.

What I find is worse than an intruder. What I find is worse than an intruder. It’s the fucking idiot of an ex-husband of hers. Letting himself into her house like he still lives there.

This motherfucker.

He freezes when he sees me. His face moves through different expressions—panic, surprise, recognition, anger—so quickly it’s almost funny. Almost.

I stop in the kitchen entrance and plant my feet.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him, keeping my voice neutral. I don’t want to wake Milly up or upset Anthony.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m the one who should be asking you. This is my fucking house!” he shouts, clearly not at all concerned about waking anyone up or shielding his child.

“Yo, man. Milly is asleep; your son is in the next room. Keep it down.”

“Get the fuck out of my house, man.” The sneer in his voice as clear as it was the first time he spoke.

I exhale impatiently, trying to hold my temper in check.

“Look, clearly no one is expecting you. Why don’t you call and come back later?” I ask in one last attempt to be reasonable.

“No, you fucking asshole. I don’t know why you think you can tell me what to do in my own house, but I'm not listening to you. Your opinion doesn’t matter to me,” he says dismissively and starts moving toward the center of the house.

I step in front of him, forcing him to stop walking.

I have almost five inches of height on him and more than thirty pounds. We are toe-to-toe and his nose is practically in my neck.

“My opinion may not matter to you. But this isn't your home. Milly isn't your wife. You don’t have any right to be here. You need to get the fuck out, now. If you wake my woman up, upset her mother, or her son, you will have a problem with me. Don’t let this pretty face fool you, if any of those people even look uncomfortable, I will fuck you up. In every way you can imagine.”

He takes a step back. I take a step forward.

“Man, you don’t scare me. I’ve been married to Milly for ten years. You just got here. Don’t think you’re here long term.” He steps back again and sneers at me.

Just then, Milly walks into the kitchen. Her robe is tied tightly around her. Her hair is loose and her face is flushed with sleep. For a second, I lose my train of thought; she's so fucking beautiful. “Kevin, what are you doing? Dean? When did you get here?” She looks back and forth between us.

Kevin bursts out laughing. “You’re not supposed to be here either? You tried to act like you spent the night.” He dismisses me by turning to face Milly.

“I came to talk about your text. What’s wrong with Anthony.”

This stops me in my tracks. Something is wrong with Ant Man?

“I told you nothing was wrong with him yesterday,” she snaps and walks into the kitchen. She walks over to the coffee maker and switches it on.

“Tell your girlfriend to stop feeding him food he's allergic to. He had a stash of Rice Krispies Treats in his backpack she gave him. He's allergic to that stuff. And she told him not to tell me. We don’t keep secrets. That’s not okay.” She turns around to face him. He actually looks shamefaced.

“About that, I'm thinking I was hasty about moving Rachael in with me. The whole situation . . .” His voice falters, and I can hear his uncertainty and regret. Idiot.

“What whole situation?” she asks slowly, her eyes narrowed on him. I lean back on the counter to watch. I have a feeling this is about to get really good.

He glances at me.

“Can we talk alone?” he says.

“We are alone,” she returns.

He looks confused.

“He’s here.” The dumbass points at me like she doesn’t know who he's talking about.

“He,” she points at me, “is me,” she turns her finger back to herself. “So, you can go ahead,” she deadpans.

He steps toward her, but then looks at me and stops. I have to tamp down my urge to laugh.

“What are you saying? We’ve been together since we were kids. This guy, he’s a fling!” His hand moves through the air, to accentuate the word. “We have a family, a kid, you can’t throw it all away for him.” He nods at me.

Milly quirks her lips in disgust.

“You’re so dumb. I don’t even want to waste the breath it would take to explain things to you. But the only thing we share is Anthony. That’s all we will ever share. Please, don’t even think about us reconciling.” Her voice is so cold I feel the chill.

“But Milly . . .” he whines.

“Dean didn’t sleep here last night, but he’s slept here before. He’s my lover, my friend, and I’ve loved him longer than I’ve even know you. Don’t ever call him a fling, or disrespect him again. From what I heard as I came down the stairs, you let yourself into this house with keys you’re no longer supposed to have. Don’t do that again. If you do, I’ll call the police without even thinking twice about it.”

“What has happened to you? You used to be such a nice woman.” And this time, I can’t control my laughter. It erupts from me and Milly shoots me a look. So, I try to stop it. It’s hard. This guy is unbelievable. Does he know Milly at all?

“No, I used to be a doormat. And you, being an asshole, have always enjoyed that. I’m glad you decided Rachael’s amazing pussy was worth more than our marriage. I’m free because of it, so maybe it was really an amazing pussy.” And this time she laughs.

“Milly, please, let’s just talk,” he begs, panic infusing his words.

“No. I don’t want to talk.” She looks at me and beams. “I want to go upstairs and go back to bed . . . with my man.”

I want to pump my fist in the air, but I just wink at her. Kevin looks like he might throw up.

She starts to walk out of the room, but looks back at him once more. “Let’s just stick to talking through our lawyers. We have a custody hearing in six weeks and then we can get on with our lives. Don’t come back here unless it’s to pick up Anthony or drop him off.”

She gets to the door and crooks her finger at me. And I’m no fool. I grab the man who is a fool and walk him to the door, push him out, lock and engage the alarm.

I pop my head into the living room and see that Anthony has drifted off to sleep on the couch.

Then, I run up the stairs after my woman.