FALLEN (NOW PUBLISHED ON AMAZON)

66.

I feel like I have accomplished so much this week, but yet, it all feels like a failure when I get to the photoshoot and can't see Marcel anywhere. My week has made me feel so much better about the future. Steeve has been dealt with. Marcel is innocent. I have realised how much I am missing him. And I've also had my appointment for my contraceptive shot.

I've been through the whole building looking for any signs of Marcel, but he is nowhere to be found. It doesn't seem like he has been here at all all week. His office seemed to have been left untouched. My heart immediately sinks deeply inside of me. I was counting on him being here today. I can't believe he didn't show up. It makes me question myself a lot.

Did he give up on us? On me as his writer?

Why isn't he here? He has always been there. He was always the one to come back to me when I pushed him away... Did I deceive him when I doubted him?

All this situation is not because I believed Paul, because I know Marcel has one of the most beautiful souls I've ever encountered. It's because I felt insecure about myself and my sanity. I didn't want me to throw myself into another relationship or another violent relationship because of a pattern of what I thought myself being unworthy of anything else. Marcel treats me so great. For the first time in myself, I feel understood. I feel like I have found myself. With him, I feel like a story, rich of vocabulary and adventures. With him, I feel like I breathe for the first time.

It's been so different with Marcel. When I was with Steeve, I was holding on to the hope he would be the soft and tender lover he rarely was, that I adored. With Marcel, it's like I can only hold on to all the times we've messed up, and not the great moments. It was foolish of me to hold his past against him and doubt him, because of the doubts I have about myself.

I ruined us. Me!

I feel like he is maybe keeping his distance because he came back for me in the rain in Edinburgh. When I told him it was over, he came back, and I pushed him away again. He doesn't deserve my love. We both have issues, and the problem is that we can't deal with them on our own, so how can we help each other? I've tried so hard to make him realise that I would never leave him, that I was going to be there for him forever so that he'd feel free to rely on me. But I ran the other way when he was counting on me the most.

I feel like a body without a heart or like a storm with no rain. I've always been one to feel everything so damn deeply, and I've invested my entire self and heart into this relationship. I need to do something.

"Grace? When you are ready." The photograph tells me and nods, getting behind his camera fixed a couple of feet away from me.

I look down at the X taped on the floor and stand straighter in front of the canvas behind me. I give a final look to my clothes and straighten them as well. I look directly into the camera, taking a deep breath. I draw a smile to my lips, thinking about where I am and what I have achieved. My story is being published. I've found myself. I've won over the support of Edith, which in itself is a huge achievement.

She's been standing behind the computer next to the photograph. We do not need a lot of pictures of me for my profile on the back of my book and the website, but I prefer to take a little more since I really want to have one I am happy with. I don't seem to have the greatest esteem over my looks today. It's usually not a big deal, but I've never really been one to like having pictures taken of me. But since today I have to, I decide to make the most of it.

"Edith? Would you mind... taking a picture with me?" I ask her, being surprisingly very shy about my request.

She frowns, her arms already crossed on her chest, but unfolds them to come my way. She smiles softly and nods to me. She takes place next to me with ease, it's inspiring. She slides an arm around my waist, and nods to me once again before looking straight at the camera. I do as she does, getting so proud for a moment.