IRENE

Marcus stared at me intensely from his side of the table, swirling his spoon around the plate of food in front of him. His gaze seemed to be directed at me but in reality he was deep in thought with his hand supporting his chin.

I was still a bit sick but it was not as severe as it used to be so I had no trouble just sitting down and watching him think, waiting for him to spit out whatever was taking up most of our time together.

After a long moment of silence, he sighed heavily, dropping the spoon from his hand and turning to face me...