Chapter 3
Julia
What’s happening? Is he being serious? Did I totally misread Ian as harmless and accidentally get mixed up with a weird creep?
He looks so earnest, though, his wolfy brow furrowed as he grips his empty latte mug.
Maybe it’s true. I’ve read that a lot of monsters have mate bonds, either fated or biological.
Whether it’s true or not that I’m Ian’s mate, it’s oddly flattering that I might be…
wanted. Chosen. I haven’t felt that way in a long time.
“I—I don’t know what to say,” I tell him. I flash my hand with my wedding set. “I’m sorry. I’m married. I…have children.”
His breath whooshes out as his shoulders sag. “Yeah, I know. I saw. I just had to tell you. I had to shoot my shot.”
A strange worm of guilt squirms in my stomach. “You’ll find someone else,” I assure him. “Someone you can love and have a family of your own with.”
His eyes, the syrupy, cinnamon-honey color of yakgwa, meet mine. “No, I won’t. That’s how it works. You’re the only one. I can’t love anyone else. I can’t mate with anyone else.”
“Really?! No sex?!” I squeak, horrified. Not that I’m having any. Richard hasn’t touched me in years. But a young guy like Ian should have more to look forward to.
His head tilts back and his eyes close as his chest gives a little hiccup of laughter. “I can have sex. I just can’t have pups with anyone else. You’re my only chance to be a father.”
“Oh.” Oh. This poor guy. Fate really dealt him a terrible hand. Not only did he get a chubby married human as his fated mate, he got an ajumma who’s more than halfway to menopause. “Even if I weren’t married, I doubt I can have more children, anyway. I’m…a lot older than you.”
His lids crack open, golden slits across the table. His voice comes out a rolling growl. “Trust me, you can. With me, you can.”
I can’t breathe. My heart squeezes so hard that it hurts.
Why are his words making me feel this way?
I met this guy an hour ago. Maybe because I’ve always wanted more babies.
I love being a mom. All of it. The baby coos, the toddler messes, the endless imagination games when they got a little bit older.
I know that stage of parenting isn’t for everyone, but during those years, I finally felt like myself.
When Molly and Samantha were in kindergarten and preschool, I begged to have another baby.
I knew I had a lot more love to give. Richard was done after two, though.
Frankly, he was done after one. So I contented myself with being a classroom mom, a dance mom, a sleepover mom, and all the other wonderful parts of parenting older kids. My girls are my everything.
I miss them so much.
They’re doing amazing at college, and I’m so proud of them for connecting more with their heritage by attending university in Korea. But there’s a huge emptiness in my life without them at home with me.
Across the table from me, Ian shifts in his seat. I can’t imagine how he must be feeling. His only chance at having kids is gone, and I’m the one who took it from him. He’ll never get to read bedtime stories to his own pups or watch them discover the world.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, eyes welling. “I wish I could help you… I wish…” Things were different. It feels disloyal to finish the sentence, so I don’t.
Ian nods slowly. “Well. Thank you for hearing me out. If you…fuck. I can’t believe I’m even saying this. But in case you block my number as soon as you walk out of here, I have to put it on the table. If you would ever consider…” He shakes his head, unable to finish the thought.
“What?” I prompt, my throat aching as I struggle to keep my tears in check. “Just say it.”
He shakes his head. “It’s too much. Forget it.”
“Hey, the worst that can happen is I say no, right?”
“You’re going to say no, but I’ll tell you anyway.
” He gives a rueful grin. “So, a little bit of context. This situation isn’t unheard of.
We actually have a Court of Fates to deal with it when fated mates have preexisting relationships that they don’t want to, um, damage.
If the mates can’t agree what to do on their own, the parties go before a Fate, kind of like a judge who decides how to proceed.
They have all kinds of binding solutions.
Plural marriage licenses, mating schedules, custody contracts for offspring, that kind of stuff.
It probably sounds odd to you, but the monster community has some pretty unique relationship structures. ”
Prickles crawl up the back of my neck. “Why are you telling me this? You’re planning to take me to court to…what? Force me to mate with you?”
His jaw drops. “No! I’d never force you into anything. I just wanted you to understand that this isn’t all or nothing for me. I’ll take anything you can give me. Friendship. Something casual or occasional. Sharing.”
“Sharing?!” I squeak, pressing my hands to my cheeks in a desperate attempt to cool them. I can’t even picture what that would look like.
He levels a very serious look at me, and his voice drops an octave as he speaks through clenched teeth. “I don’t want to share you, Julia. But I will take. What I. Can get.”
I shake my head furiously, ignoring the way his low, intimate rumble of my name makes my thighs squeeze together.
“That’s not possible. I’m not built for that.
Emotionally,” I add, when his eyes slip knowingly down my body.
There’s certainly enough of me to go around.
Richard’s always on my case to jazzercize my way into a size eight, but I haven’t been smaller than an eighteen since I had my girls, and usually a few sizes larger.
“I understand. It’s a lot, but I hope you’ll take some time to think about it.
Discuss things with your husband. And even if you don’t want contact with me, if you’d consider carrying a litter for me, that would be my dream,” Ian is saying.
Have a litter. How is he talking about this so calmly?
“If you didn’t want to co-parent our pups, we could draw up legal paperwork so that I have full custody and bear all financial responsibility. ”
My ears are ringing so loudly, I can barely hear him. Discuss this with Richard? I’d rather die.
“I have a nice home with room for a family,” he continues. “I’ve already started building a nursery, and you’re welcome to come see it if that would put your mind at ease. My job isn’t glamorous, but I can provide for my pups.”
“Okay,” I say, just so he’ll stop talking. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
Clutching my purse like a life preserver, I flee the coffee house, blindly speedwalking toward the parking lot behind the bookstore where I parked my Volvo. I slam the door and sit in the driver’s seat for a few minutes, trying to catch my breath.
Did a monster just ask middle-aged me to have his babies? This is the weirdest day I’ve ever had. Either that, or I’m dreaming? I pinch my arm, hard.
Ow. Not dreaming. Apparently, this is my weird, complicated life.