The office fell into a heavy, suffocating silence, broken only by the sound of her ragged breathing. Eventually, the exhaustion of the night before and the emotional tax of the morning took their toll. She fell asleep right there in his arms, her head resting over his heart.
Michael let out a long, dark sigh. He carried her into the small rest room attached to the office and laid her on the bed. He sat beside her for a long time, watching the way her chest rose and fell. Her eyes were swollen and red. And he felt a surge of protective tenderness that almost overwhelmed his resolve. He lay down beside her, pulling her onto his arm and allowing himself this one final, stolen moment of peace as the afternoon sun moved across the floor.
When she woke at noon, the room was quiet. The headache was gone, replaced by a dull ache in her soul. Michael walked in moments later, carrying lunch boxes.
"Eat," he said, his tone unreadable.
