Page 61 of Xavier

The only thing that was out of place was her slightly white-dusted hands. Presumably from some kind of bread dough she was most likely making for church dinner this coming Sunday.

“Xavier...” she breathed out.

I grabbed the door to yank it completely open. “I need to talk to you.”

“I think it’s best if you leave,” Dan said, fixing me with a glare.

I ignored him, staring my ex-wife down. “It’s about Dex. You know I wouldn’t be showing up here like this if it wasn’t important.”

Her expression faltered. Even though she clearly wanted to fight me—most likely to tell me to get the fuck off her property—she knew I was right. I wasn’t the kind of jealous ex to show up and demand for her to take me back or something as equally ridiculous.

We took our shit with Dexter seriously. There was no such thing as ‘needlessly bothering each other’ over trivial matters in order to annoy each other to death. Thankfully, that was the one mature thing we both mutually agreed on long ago.

“Kate,” Dan said, a little panicked when she stepped out onto the landing.

“I’ll be just a second,” she said, swinging the storm door closed behind her.

Dan watched us through the glass, wearing a clearly dissatisfied frown.

Not wanting an audience to this—because who knew if Dan was even aware of this situation—I led Kate down to my car and parked us right around the side of it, facing away from the door. I doubted her new husband could read lips, but on the off chance, I was taking every precaution.

“What happened? Why did you bring him home so early?” She crossed her arms. “Don’t tell me you got sick of him over having him for just a weekend.”

I ignored the jab. “Dexter told me about Father Thomas.”

Instantly, her face went white.

“When were you going to tell me?” I asked. “Better yet. When did you find out?”

Her arms slowly dropped from her chest while she swallowed audibly.

It hurt more to know that she kept this from me than her questioning the integrity of my parenting before allowing me to take my own kid across state lines for a weekend.

“He... he told you...” she whispered.

“Yes, Kate. I know it may blow your mind to realize that my sonactuallytells me things, but yeah, he told me. When the fuck were you going to tell me and when didyoufind out?”

She fumbled over her words. “Last summer... he— I was having a really hard time taking him to church because he was refusing to go. It was out of the blue, and...” To her credit, she looked like she felt incredibly guilty. “I’m sorry.”

So, around the time he said he’d stopped going to church with her. “Is that when it happened?”

“I-I think so... He didn’t want to talk about it.”

Yeah, no shit.

“Did you report it? What the fuck happened with the priest?”

“Of course I did!” she spat out. “What kind of mother do you take me for?”

“One that doesn’t tell the father jack-shit.” All right, it was a low blow. Sue me. I was too angry with her, with the fucking priest—with the rest of the goddamn world—to care right now.

She flinched. “What, so I was supposed to call you up and say to you, ‘hey, long time no talk. Just to let you know, our son was molested today!’. Is that what you wanted, Xavier?”

“Yes!” I exploded. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Kate?”

“I wasprotecting him?—”

“You brought him there! To that fucking church! I told you I didn’t want him raised in that shit, and you did it anyway. You handed him over to a fucking predator!”

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