The nanny had prepared a spread that smelled amazing, but after a few bites, my stomach clenched and refused to cooperate. Marcus noticed immediately. His jaw tightened the way it always did when something bothered him, and without a word, he picked out the best pieces from the dishes and set them on my plate. "Eat these," he said, in that quiet, firm tone that left no room for argument.
I tried. I really did. He meant well, and I knew it, so I pushed past the resistance and took a few more bites.
Then my body betrayed me completely. Before I could even swallow, everything came back up, and I was hunched over the kitchen sink, retching until there was nothing left.
Marcus stood behind me for a moment, then turned toward the nanny in the living room. "What's wrong with her?"
