Emma's POV
The nausea gets worse before it gets better.
By the second week it's not just mornings. It's the elevator at the patisserie, the particular smell of the butter delivery on Thursdays, the candle Mrs. Kowalski lights in the hallway that has never bothered me before and now bothers me completely.
I don't complain about it.
Dominic notices anyway.
He removes the candle from the hallway on a Wednesday without saying anything about it. It's simply gone when I come home and in its place is nothing, which is perfect.
"The candle," I say.
"What candle," he says.
I look at him.
"Mrs. Kowalski asked me to move it," he says. "Something about the wax type."
Mrs. Kowalski has been burning that candle for two years.
"Thank you," I say.
"I don't know what you're thanking me for."
I
