I feel a flush of pleasure at his praise. “Thank you.”
“And you
have a son together,” Wendy states, leaving behind the subject of my career. “Miles, is it?”
I nod, dragging my lower lip through my teeth. I feel like I’m being grilled, one question after another in quick succession.
“He’s five,” I say, then hesitate, glancing at Arthur. This is still new territory for us–discussing Miles openly as our son. “He’s…
wonderful.”
“Do you have pictures?” Wendy asks. “I’d love to see my grandson.”
Grandson, Another label that catches me off guard. She’s accepting Miles as family, sight unseen. Somewhat touched, I pull out my phone, scrolling through to find a good photo,
“Here he is,” I say, showing her a recent picture of Miles at the park, grinning broadly with his stuffed shark tucked under one
arm.
Wendy takes the phone from me, studying the image. “Hm. He has Arthur’s eyes,” she murmurs, passing the phone to Leonard.
“And his stubborn chin,” Leonard adds, zooming in on the photo. “Definitely an Alpha in the making.
H
I notice Arthur shift uncomfortably beside me. “He’s just a regular kid,” he says, shooting me a meaningful glance. I make a
mental note not to mention Miles‘ disability. Leonard and Wendy don’t seem like the most accepting people. But they’re older, so
I sort of expect that from their generation.
“Here he is as a baby,” I say, showing them a photo of Miles at about six months old, chubby–cheeked and drooling. “And this is
from his first birthday.”
Arthur tenses beside me, and when I glance at him, I see a mixture of pride and something else that I can’t quite read shining in
his eyes. My face heats as I realize that this is the first time he’s seen baby pictures of Miles. But there’s something else in his
gaze, too–a lingering tension, as if he’s hesitant to let his parents see our son
Throughout dinner, Leonard and Wendy continue to ask nonstop questions about Miles–his hobbies, his personality, his
development. I answer each one enthusiastically, surprised and pleased by their interest, even if they never seem very keen on
getting to know me personally.
“He loves dinosaurs,” I say, showing them a picture of Miles at a museum exhibit. “And sharks. Hence the stuffed shark he loves.”
“A proper little scientist,” Wendy says approvingly. “Intelligence runs in our bloodline.”
“He has his father’s quick mind,” I agree, smiling at Arthur. But he doesn’t return my smile. Instead, he seems increasingly tense, his fingers tapping restlessly against the tablecloth.
“And his abilities?” Leonard asks casually, too casually. “Have any… manifested yet?”
+20 Bonus
1 hesitate, looking to Arthur for guidance, but he’s taking a long sip of his wine, avoiding my gaze.
“He’s still young,” I say cautiously. “But he’s very perceptive.”
Leonard and Wendy exchange a look loaded with meaning
It looks like they’re about to ask more when the dessert arrives–a mouth–watering cake covered in chocolate and berries that momentarily distracts everyone at the table. Arthur looks oddly relieved by that.
By the time the gala winds down, I’ve shown Arthur’s parents dozens of pictures and videos of Miles. Despite our rocky start, I’m beginning to think they might actually approve of me—or at least, they’re willing to overlook my humanity for the sake of their grandson.
As we gather our things to leave, Wendy places a hand on my arm. “When can we meet him? In person, I mean.”
I glance at Arthur, who seems about to speak, but something in me makes me answer first. “How about dinner this weekend? At my apartment.” Arthur’s eyes widen fractionally, but I continue, “Miles would love to meet his grandparents, I’m sure. And it would be more relaxing than trying to introduce him in a formal setting.”
Wendy’s mouth presses into a faint uptick. “That sounds perfect. Doesn’t it, Leonard?”
Leonard nods, although he’s looking at Arthur when he says, “Indeed. We look forward to it. It’s about time we meet our Alpha grandson.”
I turn to Arthur, expecting him to be pleased with my suggestion, but instead, he looks even more flustered than before.
