She told him over breakfast, which she'd planned carefully, a Sunday morning, unhurried, no meetings waiting anywhere to interrupt whatever came next, the apartment quiet except for the low hum of the coffee maker and the faint sound of traffic drifting up from the street below.
Marcus set down his coffee cup slowly when she said it, the ceramic clicking softly against the saucer, and for a long moment he simply looked at her across the small table, an expression on his face she couldn't immediately read, something caught between fear and a kind of wonder she hadn't fully anticipated needing to account for.
"You're certain," he said finally, his voice quieter than she'd expected.
"I'm certain." She folded her hands in her lap, letting her voice catch, just slightly, exactly where she'd
