Then he said something strange.
“If she doesn’t, promise me you won’t let her rewrite me.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Marcus.”
He smiled weakly.
“You’re doing the interrogator eyebrows.”
“Because you’re being weird.”
“I’m dying. Weird is included in the package.”
I didn’t laugh.
He reached for me.
“Come here.”
I sat beside him.
He placed his hand against my stomach.
The baby immediately moved.
Marcus smiled.
“There she is.”
“You still think Naomi?”
“Absolutely.”
“I still think June.”
“Our daughter is going to come out confused because her parents couldn’t make one simple decision.”
“She’ll survive.”
Marcus leaned closer to my stomach.
“Your mother is stubborn.”
I stared at him.
“You’re the stubborn one.”
He kissed my belly.
For a few seconds, everything felt normal.
I would spend months wishing I had understood how precious those few seconds were.
The private meetings with Dr. Malik began shortly afterward.
Marcus’s physician, Dr. Aaron Malik, had been treating him since his diagnosis.
One afternoon, Marcus asked me to get coffee while the two of them spoke.
I raised an eyebrow.
