Page 58 of Bred By the Minotaur
I wonder what time it is. It must be early in the morning.
“You should be in your bed,” I say, interrupting myself with a gasp when he nips my throat with his blunt teeth.
“I should be where you are.” His hand slides down my arm, over my hip, where he grips me harder. “I should always be where you are. Especially when you’re big and round with my calf.” He cups my belly, which is now just starting to change shape.
“Hank...” Just his name sticks in my throat. “Milo noticed today. So did your mom.”
He pulls back. “Noticed what?”
“Imelda knows now. About us. I think our moment of keeping this a secret is over.”
Hank’s ears flatten, and his brown eyes turn worried. “Did she say something to you?”
“No. But Sandra did.”
He sighs. “I guess it was bound to happen.”
“I think it was. And it made me realize... I shouldn’t be doing this with you if I’m not serious about it.”
There. I said it. It feels like a stone falling into my gut, but I did it.
Hank is silent for a long moment, his hand still curled under my belly. Then he pulls me closer and nuzzles my hair.
“Then marry me.”
My brain comes to a stop. What?
“Say that again?” I ask in a whisper.
“Marry me, Phoebe.” Hank sits forward, taking my hands in his. “Let’s be serious, then. Let’s tell Milo. Let’s get married, and?—”
“I can’t, Hank.” I sigh and pull my hands away. He lets them go, his hopeful expression falling. “You don’t understand. I can’t be a good mom to Milo. I don’t know how to be. I don’t think I can be what you want.”
He furrows his brow. “You are what I want. Right now. You don’t have to try or be anything different.”
I don’t say anything. He thinks I’m what he wants because of his hormones, because we’re living together, because of the baby.
“Phoebe,” Hank says in a serious voice. “I love you. I don’t even need to think twice about it to say it. I love you so much, and I think we could be wonderful together if you gave me a chance.”
My heart swells hearing it just as much as it breaks. I want to crumple into his soft arms. I want to accept everything he’s offering me, but can I really step up and be the person I’d have to be?
“You’ll be an amazing mom.” His smile lights up his whole face as he cups my cheek. “There isn’t anyone better. Milo adores you, almost as much as Darla.”
We both snicker at this.
“And he’s a sweet kid, Hank,” I say, rubbing his arm. “But... you don’t understand. I didn’t have good parents. Not like you. I had a terrible example, and I don’t know if I can be what Milo and this kid”—my hand glances over my belly—“need.”
Hank is quiet for a long time before he finally answers.
“You haven’t told me about your parents. I actually know very little about you, Phoebe.”
I’m surprised to hear him say this. He’s never outright asked me, so I never thought to tell him. Maybe I’m a little protective of it, of Sandra’s and my past.
I still feel like somehow I’m at fault. Sandra says our parents were just bad people, but I’ve always wondered what I did to deserve it. What I did that made them decide they didn’t love me anymore.
“My parents left us at home alone a lot. One of the neighbors saw us playing in the apartment hallway by ourselves and called it in. So we got moved into foster care.”
Hank is watching me, just listening with his ears perked forward.
