Page 3 of Sexting My Ex's Dad
As my car pulls into the nice apartment complex, I let out a deep breath.
I can’t afford this place anymore…not by myself.
Inside the apartment that Owen and I used to live in together, I settle down at my cluttered kitchen table, laptop open and ready for action. My fingers dance over the keys, typing in search terms that will hopefully lead me to a new home within my budget. The screen lights up with various listings, each one blurring together as I scroll through them. But none in my budget.
“Come on,” I murmur, urging myself to stay focused. “There has to be something out there.”
But first things first…I need my security deposit back. I’d been the one to rent out this apartment for the two of us…had worked hours on end to be able to get the first month and deposit. I’d kept this place clean, and I needed my deposit back to find somewhere else.
I pick my phone up from beside me and scroll to Owen’s name and number. He’d changed his name to the one on theapartment when we’d renewed our lease a few months ago after he’d gotten his new job.
I don’t want to call him…but what choice do I have?
I mutter under my breath, tapping his contact with more force than necessary. After a few rings, the call goes to voicemail. I guess that shouldn’t be that surprising to me. If I’d broken up with someone, I wouldn’t answer their calls either. I let out a deep breath.
“Hey, it’s Stella,” I say into the phone, as I leave behind a voicemail. “I really need to talk to you about the security deposit. Please call me back.”
I hate having to sound desperate when it’s his fault that I’m in this situation…when he’d been the one to leave me screwed without a second care in the world. Suddenly, another idea springs into my head.
I scroll through my contacts until I reach the manager of our apartment complex. It’s not ideal, but it’s the only alternative I can think of right now. I press the call button, my heart racing with a mix of hope and anxiety.
“Good afternoon, this is Janice speaking. How may I help you?” The manager’s voice comes through the line, professional and detached.
“Hi Janice, this is Stella March from apartment 3B. I was hoping you could help me with an issue regarding my security deposit.”
“Of course, Stella. What seems to be the problem?”
“I believe someone has already come and inspected the apartment and the deposit from a few years ago, when my name was the sole one on the lease, has been released. My…exboyfriend is the name now, but he’s gone. I was hoping the check hadn’t been sent out.”
“Let me see,” I can hear her typing things on her end. “Stella, I’m sorry but the security deposit check has already been sent out to an Elio Lombardi?”
Elio Lombardi? Owen’s father? My heart sinks. From what Owen told me before he left, his father is not someone I’d want to get involved with – a man with too much power and far too many secrets.
“Are you sure there isn’t anything you can do?” I ask, desperation seeping into my voice.
“I’m afraid not, Stella. Once the check has been issued, it’s out of our hands. You’ll need to speak with Elio Lombardi directly.”
“Okay, thank you for your help,” I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper.
As I hang up the phone, a heavy sense of dread settles over me. Owen has described his dad as downright cruel, and I couldn’t fathom why Owen would have the check sent to his dad.
To torture me for throwing water in his face.
“Alright, Elio Lombardi,” I murmur, steeling myself for what’s to come. “Let’s see what you’re made of.”
It’s not ideal, but I’m desperate to get that check back and would do anything — including see my ex-boyfriend’s dad.
3
STELLA
Istep into the cozy, dimly lit café, and a familiar face catches my attention, and I can’t help but smile as Anastasia, a close friend of mine, waves me over to a quiet corner table. Her bright blue eyes sparkle with warmth, and her long blonde hair cascades down her back in soft waves as she stands up to greet me.
“Stella!” she exclaims, pulling me into a heartfelt embrace. “It’s been too long.”
“Anastasia,” I sigh, feeling a sense of comfort wash over me. “I’ve missed you.”
“Ditto. It’s been too long.”
