It was then that they could be assured it wasn’t a mere dream.
Cecilia stopped crying.
As she grew mature, she didn’t wish to display weakness in his presence.
How could Mark not understand her? To him, she remained a mere child, and even when she feigned composure, he could discern her true feelings in an instant.
Mark carefully carried her to the bed.
He cocooned her within the blanket, akin to a caterpillar in its snug chrysalis.
Cecilia was unwilling to comply. She playfully patted him on the shoulder and quipped, “I’m feeling warm. It’s summer, after all. What were you thinking?”
Mark slid his hand beneath the blanket.
He reached for her feet and remarked, “Your feet are cold.”
A N G E L A ‘s L I B R A R Y
He couldn’t fathom why her feet felt so chilly in the midst of summer when she had always been in robust health.
Cecilia extended her foot, allowing it to rest in the warmth of his palm.
His skin radiated heat, making her feel comforted.
Cecilia nestled against the pillow and softly disclosed, “After giving birth, I’ve had some minor health issues. It’s not a big deal.”
Yet, Mark was insistent on warming her feet.
As they lay down, facing each other, Cecilia hesitated briefly before inquiring, “How have you been in Rouemn? Rena never told me. And I lacked the courage to ask.”
Mark reminisced about those times.
They had been incredibly challenging.
The most trying period was when he had gone without sustenance for a month, let alone a proper meal.
During the most daunting moments, he would look at photographs of Cecilia and Edwin. After Olivia’s birth, he added Olivia’s pictures to his source of solace.
However, Mark had no inclination to divulge it to Cecilia.
He extended his arm, allowing her to nestle comfortably beside him.
He opted to share the brighter aspects of his experiences abroad during those two years.
“The snow there was enchanting. From the hospital window, I could catch a glimpse of a majestic mountain range.”
He paused as he picked which stories to share.