concrete wall...and explodes.” She dropped her face into her hands, defeat in her voice. “Then I’m next to the car, trying to get to Jean-Michel, but the flames are too hot. And I can hear him screaming, but nobody wants to help, so I run into the flames, trying to reach him. But I can’t find him, and the flames start burning me... and then I scream myself awake. When I’m lucky, I wake up before the car starts burning.”
She looked at him for comment, but he remained silent, reaching out and putting a comforting hand on hers, wanting her to continue.
“I don’t know why I dream that Jean-Michel is trapped in the burning car. Yes, the car did burn, but they got him out in time.” A deep shudder ran through her. “He had severe head injuries, and the impact of the crash had damaged his body so much that they didn’t know where to start.” A flicker of pain crossed her features. “The doctors had told me that, apart from the head injuries, his back was broken. Jean-Michel would never have come to terms with that.” She took a deep breath, and continued, “I sat next to his bed for seven days, hoping that he would regain consciousness, if only to speak to me one last time. On the eighth day, the doctors told me they had run more tests. They said there was no brain activity, and that my husband was dead. Only the machines kept him alive.” She sighed as she remembered. “His parents sat with me when the doctors switched off the machines. I held his hand, hoping for just a flicker of life, or a goodbye of some kind. Jean breathed on his own for nearly a minute before he was quiet. I thought I would die too...”
Stefan reached out and pulled her to his chest, speechless in the face of so much grief. If he could change places with her dead husband, he would do so in an instant. He would do anything to ease the guilt twisting inside him. Regret really is the worst emotion of all, he thought, rubbing a soothing hand over her back.
“Sometimes I wish for total blackness,” she confessed, her face downcast in shame. “Just a massive expanse of nothingness where there’s no pain. I don’t know how much longer I can carry on like this. I just don’t know.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Grief is a normal reaction to what must have been a dreadful experience for you.”
“I can’t find peace. There were things I needed to tell him, and now he’ll never know. Jean-Michel wanted a child, but I couldn’t fall pregnant, because of my hard training schedule. The doctors suggested that I take it easy for a year, so I could ovulate regularly, but I refused. Sometimes I think that’s why I dream about the fire. It’s my guilt, haunting me. I said to him, let’s wait a few years, it’s too soon. I didn’t know we were out of time. Maybe he did…”
“Try to remember the good times, Marcelle. Don’t concentrate so much on how it ended. I know about regret, and I know that if you focus on it too much, it will destroy you. Forgive yourself. Imagine Jean-Michel forgiving you.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“It takes time. And I don’t see that day approaching soon, not while you’re having these dreams. You need to get help.”
“The doc helps me.” The resistance in her body was immediately apparent.
He decided not to pursue the subject. Better to discuss it when she was less emotional. Instead he said, “Do you want to go back to sleep? It’s only four a.m.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to sleep. I wish I never had to sleep again, ever.”
“You need to rest. I’ll stay with you. We can sleep like we did last time.”
His persuasive voice washed over Marcelle’s tired mind like a soothing balm. Stefan had already banished the ice. Maybe he could do something about the fire. It was worth a shot. She nodded, finally looking up at him.
He laughed softly at what he read in the silvery depths of her eyes. “I promise I’ll be a gentleman. Your honor is safe with
She looked at him for comment, but he remained silent, reaching out and putting a comforting hand on hers, wanting her to continue.
“I don’t know why I dream that Jean-Michel is trapped in the burning car. Yes, the car did burn, but they got him out in time.” A deep shudder ran through her. “He had severe head injuries, and the impact of the crash had damaged his body so much that they didn’t know where to start.” A flicker of pain crossed her features. “The doctors had told me that, apart from the head injuries, his back was broken. Jean-Michel would never have come to terms with that.” She took a deep breath, and continued, “I sat next to his bed for seven days, hoping that he would regain consciousness, if only to speak to me one last time. On the eighth day, the doctors told me they had run more tests. They said there was no brain activity, and that my husband was dead. Only the machines kept him alive.” She sighed as she remembered. “His parents sat with me when the doctors switched off the machines. I held his hand, hoping for just a flicker of life, or a goodbye of some kind. Jean breathed on his own for nearly a minute before he was quiet. I thought I would die too...”
Stefan reached out and pulled her to his chest, speechless in the face of so much grief. If he could change places with her dead husband, he would do so in an instant. He would do anything to ease the guilt twisting inside him. Regret really is the worst emotion of all, he thought, rubbing a soothing hand over her back.
“Sometimes I wish for total blackness,” she confessed, her face downcast in shame. “Just a massive expanse of nothingness where there’s no pain. I don’t know how much longer I can carry on like this. I just don’t know.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Grief is a normal reaction to what must have been a dreadful experience for you.”
“I can’t find peace. There were things I needed to tell him, and now he’ll never know. Jean-Michel wanted a child, but I couldn’t fall pregnant, because of my hard training schedule. The doctors suggested that I take it easy for a year, so I could ovulate regularly, but I refused. Sometimes I think that’s why I dream about the fire. It’s my guilt, haunting me. I said to him, let’s wait a few years, it’s too soon. I didn’t know we were out of time. Maybe he did…”
“Try to remember the good times, Marcelle. Don’t concentrate so much on how it ended. I know about regret, and I know that if you focus on it too much, it will destroy you. Forgive yourself. Imagine Jean-Michel forgiving you.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“It takes time. And I don’t see that day approaching soon, not while you’re having these dreams. You need to get help.”
“The doc helps me.” The resistance in her body was immediately apparent.
He decided not to pursue the subject. Better to discuss it when she was less emotional. Instead he said, “Do you want to go back to sleep? It’s only four a.m.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to sleep. I wish I never had to sleep again, ever.”
“You need to rest. I’ll stay with you. We can sleep like we did last time.”
His persuasive voice washed over Marcelle’s tired mind like a soothing balm. Stefan had already banished the ice. Maybe he could do something about the fire. It was worth a shot. She nodded, finally looking up at him.
He laughed softly at what he read in the silvery depths of her eyes. “I promise I’ll be a gentleman. Your honor is safe with
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