Page 70 of Marcel

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Page 70 of Marcel

“You areupset.”

“That’sone way to put it,” he told her grimly.

“We will leaveyou two alone.”

“I am takingyou home,” Marcel told her coolly.

“I don’t-”

His eyes flashed. “Ifyou think that was a question, you are out of your mind. Andrew saysyou are exhausted, and there is something else.”

Her hand flew to herthroat, her eyes wide. “I am dying?”

A slow, reluctantsmile touched his lips. “No darling, you are not dying.”Taking her hand in his, he lifted it to his mouth. “You arepregnant.”

Her eyes went wide.“I am pregnant?” She whispered.

“Six weeks.Andrew figured that it was more than just exhaustion.”

“Oh my God.”

“Yes. And I amafraid I am going to insist that you stay home for at least aweek-”

“No. Marcel, Icannot possibly stay home for a week.” Tears sprang to hereyes. “I have to work. The memories and thoughts of her keepcrashing into my brain, and I cannot bear it.”

His expressionsoftened. “You are going to have to talk to someone, darling. Ihave made an appointment with a grief counselor-”

“No.” Sheshook her head wildly, her eyes wide. “Don’t make me. Idon’t want to talk about it. Please.” The tears ranunchecked down her cheeks, and he felt like his heart was breaking.Gathering her into his arms, he cradled her as she sobbed into hischest.

Chapter 15

“I have beensuch a mess the past few days. And you had to put up with me. Youmust love me madly.” She ventured a tentative smile as shelooked at him. She was exhausted, but not like the bone-clutchingweariness she had been experiencing since she received the news.

“I must.”He had stayed home with her for the second day and even gone with herto the therapist. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he brushed back thehairs on her forehead. She looked a lot better than she had two daysago and was eating soup and plain toast.

“Dr. Calderthinks I only need to return to her three more times, and I will beon my way to dealing.”

Putting his handunder her chin, he lifted it to examine her more closely. “Wantto talk?”

She nodded. “Canyou get in bed with me? I would like to feel your arms around me.”

Without a word, heremoved his shoes and climbed beside her, pulling her into his arms.She snuggled against his chest and inhaled his scent. She had criedso much during the past week that she felt dry.

“I wasattending Harvard when mom had her episode, wanting a better word.”She began quietly. “When Dad died, I offered to wait a year tohelp her with everything, but she insisted that she was okay and thatDad would not want me to do that. She said she wanted to be the proudmama of a Harvard law graduate, and she would celebrate for her andDad.”

She took a deepbreath and gazed across the room while he waited for her to continue.“She was so convincing that I believed her. I would call andcheck in every other day, and she would accuse me of being aworrywart.

When she had herfirst episode, I thought about quitting college again, and she toldme it would make her even worse if I did that. I told myself that shewas okay, that it was just something she was going through becauseshe missed Dad so much.

I was grieving, but Ihad my courses to contend with, and I kept myself busy. I think sheheld out until I finished. I could not wait to tell her I was now afull-fledged lawyer. “She took a deep breath.

“I was onmy way home when I got the news. The doctors told me this time it wasworse than before, and they were not certain she would recover.”

“You never gotto share the news.” He said quietly, his hand roaming up anddown her back lazily.

“No. I camehome and thought I could take care of her myself, but the doctorssaid it was going to be a strain and she was going to needprofessional help.

Some insurance moneywas left, and I figured that if I started working immediately, Icould afford to pay for the help. But instead of getting better, shestarted getting worse.” She lapsed into silence, and he filledin the blanks.




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