Before Our Dawn| ongoing

fifty-nine

Chapitre cinquante-neuf
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"I want to leave Paris."

Isra's hand froze, the brush halfway to her hair. "What?"

Marcel sat down on the bed like his limbs were too heavy for him to carry. "There's nothing left for me here. The city I knew, it's so different now. I can't work. I'm not fit to return to my practice. Nobody will hire a soldier because we are mentally incapable of strenuous labour. I have no prospects here, Isra. It's a surprise that my savings haven't been completely depleted, but we ought to leave this country before we become too poor to care for this family."

She put the brush down and spun around on the stool, face unreadable. "Marcel, our entire lives are here."

He began to bounce his knee, his gaze flitting around the room anxiously. "Didn't you say you missed Algeria? I remember how you longed to go back."

She did miss home, but Paris was her home now. Her entire life was here. 

"That was years ago, Marcel," she answered. "We have children now, and Klaus is already struggling to adjust. We can't move now. Perhaps we should wait a little longer."

Her husband sprang up from the bed and began to pace back and forth, from the bed to the window, running his fingers through his hair. "No. No. We should move now. Let's get out of here, Isra. Please." He stopped, meeting her eyes. "Please, I want to be far away from here. I don't want to be in France anymore. I can't."

"Marcel--"

"There are memories everywhere! Everywhere I look... I see everything and I can't take it anymore. I can't take it! The past haunts me, I miss my daughter, I miss how life used to be before this bloody war!"

Isra got up and walked to him, placing her hand on his chest. She felt his racing heart. With her other hand, she cupped his face, prompting him to gaze at her. 

"Are you running away, Marcel?" she asked quietly.

His face pinched in anguish. "I want to go somewhere else. We can sell the apartment and use the money to relocate. I think the children will like Algeria. When they are old enough, perhaps they can return to France, if they choose."

The depth of his pain was something she would never truly grasp for the rest of their lives, but she owed it to him to alleviate it as much as she could. Leaving the country, however, would be a difficult task. She had to consider Klaus and Heidi. 

"Please, Isra," he begged, on the verge of tears, his voice frail and exasperated. "Take me away from here."

Isra held Marcel tightly, feeling his body tremble against hers. She whispered soothing words, hoping to calm his stormy heart. After a few moments, she gently pulled back and looked into his eyes. "We can discuss this tomorrow. Let's go to bed, hm? We need to think this through carefully. Moving to Algeria is a big decision, and we must consider the children's future and our own safety."

Marcel took a deep breath and nodded. "Alright."

They went to lie down after she turned off all the lights. Throughout the night, she held him, wondering what it would be like to go back home.

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The next morning began with a semblance of normalcy. The family gathered around the breakfast table, the sun shining thrFough the kitchen window. Klaus and Heidi were chatting about their plans for the day, and Klaus, in his usual fidgety manner, began tapping his fork against his plate, creating a rhythmic but irritating sound.