I don’t let him look away. “I know your intentions are in the right place. I am beyond thrilled that you’re actually considering my suggestion for Eaton; amazed actually. But the way I live my life, the goals and dreams I have for the future don’t stop at the Eaton library. This is a life long commitment to giving a shit, Marcel. And I need to see if you can stomach it. We don’t have to be forever if that’s not what you want but, for as long as we are ... whatever we are, we will live in truth and reality. For me, that means we see what others look away from.”
I’m terrified, but happy that I’m finally standing up for myself and what I believe in. Soon I’m going to be raising a child and these are the values I plan to impart. Marcel exhales like I’ve punched the air from his lungs. And for a heartbeat, I see something raw there. Pain, regret, and longing as if perhaps he’s not made of strong enough stuff to handle me.
He stares at me for a beat and then speaks softly. “I’ll be there, but I have conditions too. After the service we will see a doctor my friend, Beckett recommended and then we’ll get you on vitamins and supplements to support your pregnancy. After that, you and I will sit down and discuss logistics.”
“Logistics?”
“Where you and I will live, what our day to day will look like, how long are you safe to work, what’s our birth plan, are you having the baby at home, if so where? Your home or mine?” Oh wow, logistics.
I clutch my mug tighter because part of me is terrified he doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into. I’m frozen in place, still reeling from the fact that Marcel showed up here, of all places, saying things I never thought I’d hear from him. My heart wants to leap, but my head keeps telling me not to trust him.
Gran’s voice cuts through the chaos in my head with a sharp and amused tone. “Did the Grinch really just grow a pair?”
“Gran, let’s not be rude. Perhaps we shouldn’t keep hammering in the Grinch references, he’s trying.” I groan, my face burning as I make an attempt to defend Marcel, since he is attempting to be a better man.
Of course she doesn’t stop, she never does. Waving me off like I’m a child again, she tells me, “I’ve lived long enough to know when a man’s full of hot air and when he’s drowning in feelings he doesn’t know what to do with.”
She turns her gaze on Marcel, her eyes narrowing like she’s sizing him up for a fight. “And you, mister, look like a man who is choking on his own heart.”
I bite my lip to keep from smiling. Marcel shifts like he’s uncomfortable, but he doesn’t look away.
“I’m definitely the guy drowning,” he says, low and certain. “But I’m not playing games. I’m here for Juliet and this town.”
Gran studies him for a moment longer, and I swear I stop breathing. Then her shoulders ease. “Good. If you hurt her, Marcel Dubois, you’ll never impregnate another woman again. I may be an old lady, but I have my methods. Saul, who worksat the Seventh Street Butchers, knows his way around a meat cleaver.”
I can’t help but laugh, clapping a hand over my mouth, cheeks burning. Relief and warmth rush through me, as if Gran just cracked open a door I didn’t realize I’d been holding shut.
Marcel nods, solemn, like he’s been handed a contract with blood ink. “Understood.”
Gran mutters, “Turns out enemies aren’t so bad after all.” She disappears into the kitchen, humming some old tune but I know she’s still listening with both ears. She always is.
Marcel and I are left in the dining room, awkwardly close. The silence stretches until I finally whisper, “Maybe you shouldn’t have come. Gran practically has us married, and that’s … that’s not what I need.”
His eyes search mine, and it makes me feel like I’m standing in the middle of a storm with nowhere to hide. “Maybe not,” he says, “but I can’t stay away from you and maybe one day, marriage is what we are both going to need. Let’s just start out slow and see where we land.”
I cross my arms, needing a shield. “Gran thinks you grew a heart, but I’m pretty sure you just want this to be tidy and ... refined, you know. No raving, pregnant, one night stands to mess up your life.”
Marcel steps closer, close enough that I catch the clean, sharp scent of him beneath the lingering woodsmoke from Gran’s fireplace. His voice dips, almost rough. “What if both are true? What if winning means tidy and refined and also thatIdon’t mess up a one night stand’s life because I marry her?”
My stomach flips and I shake my head, wishing I could steel myself against him, but it’s impossible. “Don’t say things like that. You make it too easy for me to forget who you are and what you really want.”
“And who am I?” he asks, coming so close he’s about to kiss me. “And what do I really want? Tell me.”
“You’re the enemy,” I breathe, but it comes out weak, my conviction slipping through my fingers. “And you want freedom.”
His hand lifts, tentative at first, then firm as he cups my cheek. My body betrays me, leaning into his touch even as my mind screams for distance. “Maybe once,” he says. “But not anymore, you’ve changed that.”
My heart thunders, the heat of him is too much. I step back before I lose myself entirely, but he follows, just enough to make it clear he won’t let me run far.
“Juliet.” My name in his mouth is an ache. “You don’t even see it, do you? The way you light up every room. The way you make someone like me—” He breaks off, jaw stiff, then shakes his head. “Forget it.”
“No,” I whisper, my throat dry. “Tell me.”
His gaze darkens, and for a moment, I think he might kiss me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he presses his forehead against mine. “Someone who has never been loved before believing that perhaps someone out there can love him. Not just someone—but you.”
The words burrow into me like fire and ice all at once. And as much as I want to believe him, I can’t shake the fear thatstaying, for him, might only be temporary. But for now, I let my eyes close; breathing him in because I don’t want to push him away. Not tonight.
“Someone does love you, Marcel, very much,” I confess love for the first time without actually saying the words that terrify me.
