Page 1 of Knocked up By the Minotaur

Chapter 1

Grace

“Come on, Pookie, it’s not that big of a deal.”

I pause in my wild flurry of packing and stare at Brad standing across the living room, blond hair flopping into his innocent gray eyes, as he offers me a sheepish little smile.

“I was only—”

“You went to see her again,” I hiss, trying to hold my emotions in check, keenly aware of my four-year-old napping in the other room. “You went to see Maggie, after you promised—swore up and downthat it was over between you two.”

He blinks. “How did you…”

“She contacted me.” I turn back to where I’m tearing the couch apart looking for Lucas’s favorite stuffed toy and do my utmost best to keep the tears at bay.

I can’t believe what a stupid, stupidwoman I’ve been, believing that this man would stop cheating. He’s always been a cheater. He’ll always be a cheater.

For crying out loud, I was his sidepiece once! Four and a half years ago, I was the woman he left another for. Heartbroken because my ex-fiancé had knocked me up before breaking up with me to move to Thailand with his new girlfriend, I was an emotional wreck and couldn’t see Brad for what he truly was. He’d just swooped in while I was pregnant and depressed, afraid that no man would ever want a forty-year-old single mom, and he’d seduced me with his stupidstorm gray eyes and his stupid sweet words and his stupid…stupidity!

He’d left Lacy to be with me, allegedly. Now, I’m not so sure there wasn’t a period of time when he was messing around with the both of us before moving in with me. But my stupid pregnant ass was so desperate not to be alone, I hadn’t noticed a thing.

“Pookie…”

“Don’t call me that,” I whisper-screech, and I grab a pillow and throw it at him. I watch just long enough to see it smack him right in the face, before turning back to my search for Mr. Rawrypants. Turns out the stuffed dinosaur was under the pillow I’d thrown, so I guess stupid Brad is at least good for something today.

“Babe, listen to me, please,” he tries, as I grab the stuffed toy and turn to the man I’d once trusted. He stares at me imploringly, his expression open and earnest. “It isn’t like that. You’ve got to believe me.”

“All this time you’ve been out ‘looking for work’, you’ve been at her place, haven’t you?”

“It’s not what you think!”

“Oh really,” I snap, “then what is it?”

He immediately strides forward, reaching for my hands and holding them tightly in his, my son’s dinosaur dangling precariously between our fingers. “Nothing happened,” he murmurs. “I swear it.”

I fight the urge to yank away from his touch, and flash him a sickly-sweet smile as I wait to hear what honeyed bullshit will sprout from his lips next.

“I know I’ve made mistakes in the past, big ones,” he says, his voice trembling with suppressed emotion. “But I’m changing, I’m growing. For you, I’ll do anything. I stopped seeing Maggie because you told me to, I did it for you! For us. For Lucas.”

Oh my god, is he seriously trying to score bonus points for ‘not cheating’ anymore when he was found out? He’s not even bothering to come up with an excuse, he’s just manipulatingme with emotions.

He’d been sleeping with Maggiefor nearly a year, and the only reason I hadn’t thrown him out on his ass as soon as I’d found out, was because he convinced me that he wanted to change, that we should work things out because he was the only father Lucas had ever known. He swore on Lucas’s life that he would never touch another woman again. And my stupid assbelieved him.

“Nothing happened between me and Maggie today, I promise,” he continues quietly. “It’s just you, Pookie. I’d never do that to you, you’re my queen.”

“Am I?” I ask sweetly, disentangling our fingers before swinging Mr. Rawrypants with all my might into his face. “Is she pregnant from immaculate conception, then, you asshole?” I thwack him again, and he flinches back, raising an arm to ward me off as I keep swinging the stuffed toy. “Is she bringing forth the next coming of Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior? Huh?”

“Ow!” He backs away, his whole face scrunching guiltily. “You know about that?”

“She wasn’t pregnant when you ‘broke things off’ with her all those months ago!”

“It’s… It’s not my kid.”

“Oh my god, you—” I cut myself off before I can start on a rage-filled tirade, and straighten my spine. “I’m leaving, Brad. This is it for us. I’ve had enough.”

And I turn and head back to our room to finish packing my bags.

“No, pumpkin, wait! What about the apartment?”

---