My Son, Who Is He?

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I don't know why, but I stroll back inside. I don't know if I was hoping Marcel would fight more for me than he just did, but it only makes me feel more desperate. My heart wants him more than my head can reason. Being apart from him is good for me to think more clearly. I can't be with him if it means going back to a relationship of secrets, distrust and violence...

I think that and yet, once I get inside the hotel, I stay by the door, my clothes dripping on the carpet until I see Marcel's luxurious car drive away quickly into the city. Sobs find their way back to me. I feel suddenly tremendously lonely and empty. I can't believe he's gone and that it somehow means that Paul won.

Thinking of Paul sickens me. I look behind me at the hotel hall. Now, it's deserted as if nothing had just happened. I don't want to go back to the conference hall and talk about my book's love story when mine just ended. But first things first, I need to change. I can't stand my body to be soaking wet like that. Plus, I'm freezing.

I walk painfully slowly the way to the lift with my head down. My thoughts are the only thing keeping me company. The constant dilemma about letting Mace go runs in my head. Love makes everything complicated...

I hear my name being called, and I get instantly annoyed. I want to be alone. I need to be alone. My name is called again, so this time I look up. I get surprised to see Edith getting up from a padded bench next to the lift. Her face is sad and lost at the same time.

"Grace!" She now calls me more categorically. I stop walking altogether to face her with the same cold expression she shares with her son. I don't respond. I don't want to blame her for making her fiancé angry and pushing her son away. "What happened?"

I frown a second. Didn't Paul tell her his side, however false and exaggerated it might have been? I sigh and drop my arrogance. Sadness saw the door and rammed into it, shattering me from inside right in front of her.

I take a step her way and circle my arms around her. My tears leave my eyes to fall in an endless motion down my cheeks. Sobs get caught in my throat as my face is nuzzled against her neck. Her hug is as awkward as her son's, but it's only because she is surprised because it becomes quickly maternal. Her embrace is warm, and it shields me from undesired thoughts. All I can think of is Marcel. Should I tell her? About our break-up? It seems a little too obvious to keep to myself.

"Where is he?" She asks gently, caressing my hair down with a hand repeatedly.

I don't respond. I try to contain myself and take back control of my emotions before answering. I take advantage of our embrace to calm down and enjoy this moment of proximity with her. It makes me sad to realise that it's only when we're apart that I get closer to his mum.

I part from her when I'm ready to face her and have the strength to look into her eyes. They're so green, just like Marcel's.

"He's gone. I was scared of what Paul might do to him..."

"I heard about it..." She only responds slowly to me, calmly to mirror my voice. Her eyes meet mine again once she's taken my hands into hers. "Paul is gone as well."

I don't know if I feel relieved or worried to know that Paul has also left. Did he follow Marcel?

As she sees my panic, she brings a hand to my shoulder to calm me down, I presume.

"I don't know where he went, but he only told me that Marcel tried to kill him. I didn't believe him..." She adds slowly, but I can see by the way she looks at me that she wants me to tell her it isn't true.

I look down and sigh, so my actions betray me and reveal the answer. She lets go of my hands and takes a step back in shock. I don't know what to say to comfort her because it's true.

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