1 Author's pre-note: hello once again! I must thank you all for the great
reviews—I really appreciated them! Thank you soooooo much! Yes, I have
been busy lately, between homework and my busy schedule, but believe me,
I'm trying to keep up! Anyways, this story has been a little sappy so far,
and I have to admit it. This chapter especially is very sappy! So if you
can't stand that kind of thing—please read (and review—I love reviews!) it
anyways. I promise, it won't stay like that for long! After this chapter,
the sap will for the most part be over. Okay? Okay! On with the story!
2 Chapter Five—A Loving Exchange
Marguerite's eyes widened, as her jaw almost dropped to the floor. Her soft breathing began to come out in short, heavy gasps. Her face had turned deadly pale.
"Marguerite . . . ?" Challenger asked, narrowing his eyes. "Marguerite, are you all right?" He stared at the young heiress, who seemed to be going through a slight panic attack. "Marguerite, please, say something!" He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently shook her.
Before Marguerite could say a word, she quickly spun around and leaned over the balcony, throwing up whatever had remained in her stomach that had not been upchucked the last time. She once again began to cough and splutter, gasping for air.
"Oh, Marguerite." Challenger again patted Marguerite's back. "Easy now. Easy does it." He let Marguerite lean onto him, as she was feeling very faint, and dipped a washcloth into the basin of water. He patted Marguerite's forehead with it, and managed to sit her down on a chair sitting nearby. "Relax, my dear." He bent down in front of her and looked upon her in worry. "Please, relax. The extra stress wouldn't be good for the baby."
Marguerite coughed one last time. She avoided Challenger's gaze and stared at the balcony floor. "There is no baby," she said rather flatly, "I'm not pregnant. I can't be."
"Actually, Marguerite, there's a good chance that you are," Challenger insisted, "I know it would come as a great shock to you and all, but—"
"You said it was just a theory." Marguerite's sentence came out rather shakily, as if she was trying not to cry. "You said you weren't sure."
"Well, there is a chance that I could be wrong . . . but after what I've seen from you this past month, I don't think so." He paused. "Marguerite, will you please look at me?"
Marguerite sniffed and moved her gaze from the floor up and into Challenger's face. Her eyes were misty-looking; tears were threatening to overflow.
Challenger's face was straight. "I have plenty of reasons for my assumption. Your appetite, for one." He chuckled softly. "Don't think I haven't noticed you polishing off our leftover raptor meat lately. And believe it or not, I have heard you complaining to Roxton to hunt for domestic chicken . . . though it is clear that those species do not exist on the plateau. And not to mention, I've also heard you trying to describe the recipe for fudge cake to Veronica, along with your begging and pleading for her to find cacao beans on the next hunting trip. And that's not the only proof, Marguerite. Come on . . . can't you see it yourself? It's not only in your appetite . . . it's in your stomach sickness. It's in your hair, and. . . ." Challenger gazed into Marguerite's teary eyes, "it's in your eyes. Can't you see it? Can't you feel it, Marguerite? Clearly, you could have know this yourself---"
"Oh, Challenger!" Marguerite cried, cutting him off. She burst into tears and fell into Challenger's arms, where she stayed there and sobbed uncontrollably.
Challenger sighed and smiled slightly, taking his hand and stroking the back of Marguerite's head. "There, there," he said paternally, "there now, Marguerite. You can cry if you want to. Please don't be ashamed around me. I understand."
Marguerite paused her sobbing and swallowed. "You're . . . you were right, Challenger," she said sadly, "you were right. Deep down, I did know. I . . . I couldn't bring myself to admit it. I'm so sorry." She buried her face in Challenger's shoulder and sobbed once again.
"Oh Marguerite. Don't be sorry—I understand why you feel the way you do."
Marguerite lifted her head up and stared right into Challenger's eyes. "Challenger, you'd never understand the way I feel. You don't know the things I've done in all my years. I've done horrible things, Challenger! There's so much about me you don't even know yet! You don't know the situations I've been in, and how I've struggled to survive . . . I've got a huge burden to carry, Challenger." She paused and sniffled. "A baby would just compound that burden. And John . . . what would he say? We've only been together—openly together, anyways—for a month! What if he thinks this whole thing as a mistake? What if he thinks I'm a mistake—that we're a mistake?!"
Challenger returned Marguerite's gaze. "Do you really think that John would think that of you—or of the both of you—like that?"
"I don't know," Marguerite sighed, "I don't know what he'd think. I hardly know what to think myself! I mean, I know he loves me, but---"
"But that's the thing!" Challenger cried. "Marguerite, I don't think that you realize how much John loves you. And the truth is that I've never seen anyone more in love than the two of you. Never. I've seen that man willingly put his life on the spot just for you. He would risk everything for you Marguerite! Everything!"
Marguerite's mouth opened to reply. But instead, she fell silent.
Challenger sighed. "Marguerite . . . John would never do anything of the things that I'm sure you're thinking of. He's a responsible man . . . and he honestly, truly loves you. He'd be thrilled to know that you, the love of his life, are carrying something that is a part of both of you . . . something made by completely by love. He'd be overjoyed, Marguerite." He paused. "Aren't you?" He took a deep breath and waited for a reply. He didn't know what Marguerite's reply would be, and was almost afraid of what she could say. But his worries quickly vanished . . . because what Marguerite said next made them both cry in joy.
Marguerite smiled. More tears streamed down her face—tears of happiness. "Yes, Challenger," she said, wiping the tears on her face with her hand. "Yes . . . of course I'm overjoyed. And . . . of course I know that John loves me." She began to laugh merrily.
Challenger also laughed joyfully. He pulled Marguerite into a long embrace.
And they stayed there together for a while.
2 Chapter Five—A Loving Exchange
Marguerite's eyes widened, as her jaw almost dropped to the floor. Her soft breathing began to come out in short, heavy gasps. Her face had turned deadly pale.
"Marguerite . . . ?" Challenger asked, narrowing his eyes. "Marguerite, are you all right?" He stared at the young heiress, who seemed to be going through a slight panic attack. "Marguerite, please, say something!" He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently shook her.
Before Marguerite could say a word, she quickly spun around and leaned over the balcony, throwing up whatever had remained in her stomach that had not been upchucked the last time. She once again began to cough and splutter, gasping for air.
"Oh, Marguerite." Challenger again patted Marguerite's back. "Easy now. Easy does it." He let Marguerite lean onto him, as she was feeling very faint, and dipped a washcloth into the basin of water. He patted Marguerite's forehead with it, and managed to sit her down on a chair sitting nearby. "Relax, my dear." He bent down in front of her and looked upon her in worry. "Please, relax. The extra stress wouldn't be good for the baby."
Marguerite coughed one last time. She avoided Challenger's gaze and stared at the balcony floor. "There is no baby," she said rather flatly, "I'm not pregnant. I can't be."
"Actually, Marguerite, there's a good chance that you are," Challenger insisted, "I know it would come as a great shock to you and all, but—"
"You said it was just a theory." Marguerite's sentence came out rather shakily, as if she was trying not to cry. "You said you weren't sure."
"Well, there is a chance that I could be wrong . . . but after what I've seen from you this past month, I don't think so." He paused. "Marguerite, will you please look at me?"
Marguerite sniffed and moved her gaze from the floor up and into Challenger's face. Her eyes were misty-looking; tears were threatening to overflow.
Challenger's face was straight. "I have plenty of reasons for my assumption. Your appetite, for one." He chuckled softly. "Don't think I haven't noticed you polishing off our leftover raptor meat lately. And believe it or not, I have heard you complaining to Roxton to hunt for domestic chicken . . . though it is clear that those species do not exist on the plateau. And not to mention, I've also heard you trying to describe the recipe for fudge cake to Veronica, along with your begging and pleading for her to find cacao beans on the next hunting trip. And that's not the only proof, Marguerite. Come on . . . can't you see it yourself? It's not only in your appetite . . . it's in your stomach sickness. It's in your hair, and. . . ." Challenger gazed into Marguerite's teary eyes, "it's in your eyes. Can't you see it? Can't you feel it, Marguerite? Clearly, you could have know this yourself---"
"Oh, Challenger!" Marguerite cried, cutting him off. She burst into tears and fell into Challenger's arms, where she stayed there and sobbed uncontrollably.
Challenger sighed and smiled slightly, taking his hand and stroking the back of Marguerite's head. "There, there," he said paternally, "there now, Marguerite. You can cry if you want to. Please don't be ashamed around me. I understand."
Marguerite paused her sobbing and swallowed. "You're . . . you were right, Challenger," she said sadly, "you were right. Deep down, I did know. I . . . I couldn't bring myself to admit it. I'm so sorry." She buried her face in Challenger's shoulder and sobbed once again.
"Oh Marguerite. Don't be sorry—I understand why you feel the way you do."
Marguerite lifted her head up and stared right into Challenger's eyes. "Challenger, you'd never understand the way I feel. You don't know the things I've done in all my years. I've done horrible things, Challenger! There's so much about me you don't even know yet! You don't know the situations I've been in, and how I've struggled to survive . . . I've got a huge burden to carry, Challenger." She paused and sniffled. "A baby would just compound that burden. And John . . . what would he say? We've only been together—openly together, anyways—for a month! What if he thinks this whole thing as a mistake? What if he thinks I'm a mistake—that we're a mistake?!"
Challenger returned Marguerite's gaze. "Do you really think that John would think that of you—or of the both of you—like that?"
"I don't know," Marguerite sighed, "I don't know what he'd think. I hardly know what to think myself! I mean, I know he loves me, but---"
"But that's the thing!" Challenger cried. "Marguerite, I don't think that you realize how much John loves you. And the truth is that I've never seen anyone more in love than the two of you. Never. I've seen that man willingly put his life on the spot just for you. He would risk everything for you Marguerite! Everything!"
Marguerite's mouth opened to reply. But instead, she fell silent.
Challenger sighed. "Marguerite . . . John would never do anything of the things that I'm sure you're thinking of. He's a responsible man . . . and he honestly, truly loves you. He'd be thrilled to know that you, the love of his life, are carrying something that is a part of both of you . . . something made by completely by love. He'd be overjoyed, Marguerite." He paused. "Aren't you?" He took a deep breath and waited for a reply. He didn't know what Marguerite's reply would be, and was almost afraid of what she could say. But his worries quickly vanished . . . because what Marguerite said next made them both cry in joy.
Marguerite smiled. More tears streamed down her face—tears of happiness. "Yes, Challenger," she said, wiping the tears on her face with her hand. "Yes . . . of course I'm overjoyed. And . . . of course I know that John loves me." She began to laugh merrily.
Challenger also laughed joyfully. He pulled Marguerite into a long embrace.
And they stayed there together for a while.