He pushes my bedroom door open with his foot, approaches the bed, lays me down on it with a gentleness that squeezes my heart, that squeezes something else too, that awakens sensations I shouldn't have, not for him, not now, not like this."Thank you," I say, adjusting my pillow behind my head, trying to find a position where the contraction is less present, less oppressive."I'm staying," he says, sitting on the edge of the bed."You shouldn't stay, you should go back down, Aurélie is all alone downstairs, she must be wondering what's happening, she must...""She knows what's happening. She knows I'm with you. She knows I'm watching over you. She understands.""Understands what?"He looks at me. Really. His blue eyes, so blue, incredibly blue, plunged into mine, and I feel my heart racing, beating much too fast, beating for the wrong reasons, for reasons I shouldn't have."She understands that I am the father of your children," he says softly. "That I have responsibilities. That I ca
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