Page 63 of Bred By the Minotaur
“At DreamTogether?” I ask.
“Mm-hmm. I think he figured it out the first time, when you had Milo. I’m almost positive he knew then you were meant to be.”
Even back then, I was special to him? Just like he was to me?
Hank. The sturdiest man—or monster—I’ve ever met. As dependable as a mountain and yet so warm and vulnerable. He opened his home and his heart to me easily, and has never held it against me that I wasn’t ready.
I can’t let him go. Not ever.
As the hours pass, Imelda falls asleep, too. Soon, morning sun creeps in the high windows of the hospital room. I’m not sure how many hours have gone by when I hear Hank’s quiet voice muffled by the oxygen mask.
“Phoebe?”
I sit up straight, and my eyes dart to Hank’s face. His lids are half-open, like he’s exhausted. His hand reaches for me.
“Hank!” I try not to say it too loud as I stumble over to the hospital bed. I wrap his fingers up in mine. “I’m so glad to see you!”
“You, too,” he says with a faint smile. “I’m glad you were here when I opened my eyes.” His gaze veers over to Milo, and his smile widens. “My sweet boy.”
I nod and hold his hand tighter, wishing I could hug him. Milo and Imelda are still fast asleep as we whisper.
“Don’t wake them up yet.” Hank pulls me closer to him, and I kneel beside the bed. “I just want a moment to tell you how much I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I say the words without thinking twice. I kiss the top of the mask. “You’d better live through this, because I want to get to tell you that in front of everyone.”
He pauses. “Really?”
“Really.”
Hank chokes out a laugh. “If only I’d known all it took was almost dying.”
My lips screw up. “You’re not out of the woods yet.”
“I know.” He coughs, and the sound wakes up his mother and Milo. I step aside as Milo lunges for the bed.
“Dad! You’re awake!”
Hank grins and rubs one of Milo’s nubby horns. “I am. Good to see you, bud.”
I watch the three of them together, hoping that this isn’t the last time.
Hank
I drift in and out of consciousness. My chest aches, my throat is raw, and my nose feels like it’s full of dust. Thanks to the drugs, I can’t feel my leg. They say it will heal, but it’ll be six months at minimum before I’m back on my feet again.
Which means no work, and puts even more stress on Phoebe and my mother.
But I’m glad I’m alive, and I’ll hold onto that as long as I can. The doctors say I’m getting just enough oxygen to survive, but it’s taxing my body. They’re doing everything they can to keep me from having heart failure.
While I’m awake, I hold Phoebe’s hand every moment possible. Milo adds his own hand to the pile, like we’re doing a squad break, and Phoebe giggles as she brings him into her lap.
“You want to hold hands with us?”
He scratches his head. “Yeah. I like it when you hold hands.” He leans back to rest his head on Phoebe’s chest. “Do you guys like each other?”
Phoebe inhales sharply, but I have to smile.
“We do. At least, I like Phoebe.”
