Page 56 of Bred By the Minotaur
“I don’t know why,” I say innocently.
That’s when Imelda walks into the room. “What don’t you know?”
“Phoebe smells like Dad,” Milo repeats, eyeballing me. Imelda’s eyebrow quirks.
“Well, she does live here,” the older minotaur says, kneeling next to her grandson. “You probably smell a lot like your dad, too.”
“Yeah, but not like that,” he says rather mysteriously.
“All right, go get cleaned up for dinner.” Imelda starts tidying up his crayons and pens as Milo grumbles and climbs out of his chair. When he’s gone, though, Imelda gives me a knowing look.
“Hm,” is all she says, and it’s all she needs to say, because we both know what it means.
Fuck. So much for keeping what I’m doing with Hank a secret. If her sense of smell is as precise as Milo’s, she probably knows all about it—and probably has for a while.
I wish Hank would’ve warned me.
When we’re finished preparing dinner, I pack up some of the food and head down the block to Sandra’s house. With fall settling in, it’s dark out, but the lights are all off inside save for the shine of the television screen.
I push the door open slowly so I don’t surprise my sister. She glances up from the television and nods.
“Hey,” I say quietly, closing the door behind me. I approach the table and set down the half-full casserole dish. “Brought some chicken mac ’n’ cheese that Imelda and I made.”
She sighs as I go to grab her a plate. “Leftovers again, huh?”
I wince. I know I haven’t been around as much as before, what with Milo needing so much of my attention. This is what I feared when I got mixed up with Hank—that I would slack in my duties to my sister.
This is why having what I have with him is impossible.
“I’m sorry,” I amend quickly. “I’ll come over tomorrow after work, and we can?—”
“Stop, Feebs.” She pauses dishing out the food to hold up a hand to me. “You don’t need to apologize for living your life. I’m glad you moved in with Hank, and I’m happy you have a relationship with Milo.” Then, Sandra waggles her brows. “And whatever is going on with the baby daddy... I’m excited for you.”
I stare at her. “What?”
“It’s obvious. You’re suddenly all smiles lately. It must be because you’re getting laid.”
I blanch. Shit, was I that obvious? We’re really not good at this “hiding our relationship” thing if we’ve gotten found out twice in one day.
“Yeah, thought so,” Sandra says, tasting her food.
“It’s not like that, though. We’re just...”
“What, just having sex? Again?” She lets out an irritated sigh. “You did this already. You know you like him. You more than like him. So just admit it already.”
“I can’t!”
The volume of my voice surprises both of us.
“Why not?” Sandra truly looks like she doesn’t understand. “Everything has been lined up right in front of you, Phoebe. You love Hank. You love Milo. He’s your son. You even get along with the mother-in-law. Isn’t that the best you could ask for?”
“I’m not Milo’s mother. You said it once, and you were right. I carried him, he has my DNA in him, but he’s not my son. And I don’t know if I could ever be that for him.”
Saying it aloud hurts more than I expected.
“It wouldn’t be fair of me,” I go on, my voice cracking. “I would disappoint him. I wouldn’t make a good mom. And... I’m going to leave.”
“Why would you leave?” Sandra asks.
