The Midwife's Wards

LOREN

Phoebe hadn’t said men couldn’t be caregivers. However, she’d implied it by the incredulous way she’d acted when he started cleaning up. It certainly seemed like she was perturbed by the idea. As she explained why she felt as she did, however, he fell silent, perfectly willing to let her speak. When she finished, he nodded in understanding. ”I also enjoy domestic things. Nor do I mind them being expected of me. So, maybe you can get used to it?” Now that he’d exposed her to the idea, it was on her to find a way to live with it. He wasn't going to change his ways for her, especially on something so silly.

As she spoke of not having a family, his eyes flicked to the boys. ”You have a family.” Now more than ever, the healer had others to take care of. If she should be doting on anyone, it was her nephews. It was a horrible situation, but at least that much good had come from it. However, as she once more challenged the Launceleyn’s baking abilities, his eyebrows rose. If that’s how she wanted to play it, so be it. As she prepared the cobbler, he bustled around her kitchen, opening cabinets and drawers and slowly collecting everything he needed, from ingredients to dishes to utensils. Once it was all assembled, he glanced over at the midwife, wondering if she was actually going to force him to do this.

But don’t be weary if it’s broken

Families are like that—

they’re split up and always torn.