The divorce was two years ago.
Mutual. clean. necessary.
Co-parenting has been fine.
Mostly.
You both have a system.
And the system works—
until one of you goes around it. Tonight?
That’d be her.
The penthouse is quiet.
Good quiet.
The kind that settles after a long week.
Dani is beside her on the couch— close.
Laughing at something low— Her hand resting between Kennedy’s thighs. Aggressively massaging.
and that’s all it takes.
She pulls her in.
Easy. Like breathing.
They’re mid-kiss, nearly on top of eachother when—
The elevator opens. Both of them still.
Dani pulls back first. “…did you give someone the code?”
“Nobody has that code.”
Except—
“KENNEDY.”
One voice. One name.
Said at a volume that belongs nowhere near a penthouse at 9pm.
Kennedy closes her eyes. Just for a second.
“…or one person has that code.”
Dani straightens. Watching the entrance.
You come around the corner— coat still on.
Keys still in hand.
Eyes locked on Kennedy like a target. “You sent Marcus to a sleepover.”
“Hello to you too.”
“Without telling me.”
“He’s eleven.”
“KENNEDY.”
Dani glances sideways, stifling a laugh before looking you over. “Hey sexy.”
Kennedy stands. Unhurried.
“Dani. give us a second.”
Dani looks between you both— Grins. then nods once.
Unfazed.
Takes her beer bottle and disappears toward the kitchen without a word.
And then it’s just you two.
You— still wound tight. Still furious.
Her— hands in her pockets. Watching you like you’re a weather pattern she’s already calculated.
“It was one night.”
“That is not the point.”
“He called you from Jaylen’s house at eight o’clock—”
“After the fact—”
“Because he wanted to.”
“Because you didn’t give me the choice to say no.”
She tilts her head. “Would you have said yes?”
You open your mouth. Close it.
“…that is not the point.”
“That’s a no.”
“Kennedy—”
“You would’ve said no.”
She says it simply.
Not mean.
Just accurate.
“He’s been asking to go for three weeks. You kept stalling.”
“I keep stalling because Jaylen’s parents don’t—”
“His parents are good people.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I’ve met them four times.”
“Without telling me—”
“Because every time I bring it up you shut it down.”
The room goes quiet.
You’re still gripping your keys.
She’s still watching you.
Calm in that way that used to make you feel steadied—
and now just makes you feel like you’re losing an argument you came here to win.
“You can’t make those calls alone.”
You say it quieter this time.
“We have a system.”
“The system wasn’t working for him.”