“Sometimes it really fucks me up to know that everything I’ve come to love was given to me by Father.” I glance down at her belly, thinking even that hasn’t been untainted by his influence. But when I push my hand out, grazing against the heat of her stomach, I don’t feel the bitterness. “I used to wonder if it was even real, like maybe I’m just making the best of it, or maybe I’m so broken that I cling to the smallest crumb of warmth, claiming it like a parasite.” Immediately, she insists, “That’s not true.” “It was with Danner,” I argue, reaching up to take her face in my hands. I hold her
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