FLYING | Sequel of FALLEN (NaNoWriMo 2022 WINNER)

34.

Emma and I made dinner while everybody else was hard at work. I didn't say a word at the dining table. I barely said a word to Marcel either. I debated whether to worry him with the doubts circling my mind now or not. I thought it best to keep it to myself, but it obsessed me. I went back to my sculpture after dinner to change my mind, but Marcel joined Logan and I in the veranda and I just kept on spiralling. I would have questioned Marcel then and there if Logan weren't with us in the room. So I held it in. I held it in, and I tried my best to breathe in and out, sensing the eventual panic attack that would rise.

Eventually, I can't focus on my work anymore and look at my boyfriend next to me. Marcel is half-laid on the couch with a book on his lap. When I see him turn the last page of his chapter, I decide to put it all on the line.

I lean in and murmur to him, "do you think we could talk in private?"

He turns his head towards me, a growing frown on his face, but nods in response. I wipe my hands on the cloth on my work table and get up. I hear his book close and his footsteps follow me to the bedroom.

The knot in my throat makes me want to throw up even more than it did all afternoon. I don't know how to approach him or how to question him. He senses that something is wrong. I see it in his eyes, the way he looks at me, the way I keep avoiding his eyes for too long.

I make sure the door is closed behind us and walk to the bed. I can't stay seated for more than a few seconds. My heart races in my chest. I'm barely able to contain myself with fear and anxiety. Last time I felt like that, I was leaving Kate's house. And I had just experienced the worst panic attack I had ever experienced.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

"Grace? What is it?" Marcel stops me from walking around and takes my cheeks into his hands. He dives his eyes into mine, forcing me to look at him. I can't hold his gaze for more than two consecutive seconds. "Grace?"

The knot rises to my throat. My lips tremble as cold sweat sting my skin with utter discomfort. I can't find the right way to ask him.

"Is Kristoff Alexander in prison?" I blur out, my heart in my throat, sweat dripping down my back.

It takes seconds before Marcel understands the words that came out of my mouth. His puzzled and worried look changes the second he makes sense of my question. The violence of his reaction scares me to the bone.

Marcel lets go of me, and steps back. He isn't even at arm's length anymore. His eyes grow dark, and I see him shield himself. Every muscle in his body stiffens. His gaze has drained of the love it held seconds ago. We mirror each other's visible state of panic and I realise how foolish I might have been not to question this sooner.

"Why do you ask me that?"

Every word is slowly spoken. Each holds the weight of a heavy and terrible truth I had no idea was at stake when I questioned him.

"I was talking with Logan and Emma earlier. And we touched the subject. And it got me thinking that with all the money he has, he could be walking free awaiting the trial."

My tone is soft, hopeful, seeking comfort from the state of panic I have been in for half the day. I step towards him, reaching for the protection he always gives me. The security he shields me with.

"He isn't."

His coldness refrains me from reaching out to him. He stares blankly at me, now at arm's length from him, but feeling so distant. He feels like a soldier given an order. He is emotionally absent, obeying to the rules with no sense of self. I get scared of him. I've never seen him so shielded before. The man in front of me is not my Marcel. And that worries me.