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Chapter 8

Author: A.M. Zanoria
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

His thick brown locks fell across his forehead as he shook his head, giving him an intriguingly helpless appearance. Before continuing, he said, "Sorry to get off the subject," apologizing to the interviewer, Mark. I have no plans to apologize for the quality of my work. It can stand on its own merits. People either appreciate it for what it is and pay for it, or they don't. Since it sells, many others believe it satisfies a need for amusement.

Estel looked surprised by this. It was a statement of fact, but the simplicity of its reality rattled her. When she turned on the TV, the last thing she had anticipated was that Michael Jensen would make her feel better about herself. She hadn't bargained for an introduction to a worldview she'd never thought about before. But again, she had never been broken enough by her own failings to require pity. She had always met her own or anybody else's high standards.

As her worldview shifted, she became temporarily bewildered and missed a few seco
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    “Good morning, Henrick,” she murmured. When Henrick saw Estel, he said, “Morning, Estel.” His keen eyes took in the pallor of her face and the way she nervously twisted a pencil in her fingers. Typical of him, he asked me straight out, “Are you recovered, or have you brought your germs into the office to infect the rest of us?” Estel relaxed a little, a slight grin appearing to brighten her features. It was the other way around, she remarked wryly. “Someone else brought the germs in, and I gathered them up and took them home with me.” Henrick gave a casual shrug. “Part of the job,” he remarked in a callous tone. “At any rate, it saved you from getting your tail chewed royally yesterday. I was in the mood to eat nails.” Estel's eyebrows went up in curiosity as she waited for Henrick to mention Michael. Though she could have followed Henrick there, she was no longer capable of doing so. The sarcastic tone in Henrick's voice was clear as he warned Estel, “Don't look so innocent.” And you

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    Henrick shook her by the shoulders and laughed, “That will be the day,” clearly not believing her. Then he became serious again and said, “Seriously, Estel, when you first came to work here, you were a little prudish, but you weren't as tight as a clam.” Even after Estel's immediate reversion to cold hostility, he said, “You didn't grow with him, Estel. I can't help but think Peter wasn't good for you.” He said this with a cautious look in his eyes, indicating that he knew he was treading on dangerous ground. He put you in an academic bubble where the outside world was rarely allowed in, and I saw you become more and more narrow-minded as he did. “A poet is supposed to expand people's horizons, not narrow them!” he interrupted the inevitable rejoinder. “Do yourself a favor and reread Peter's poetry, Estel. I think you'll understand what I mean if you still have any sense of objectivity in this situation regarding him.” Estel shot him a cold look, trying desperately not to say something

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    Lars and Anne Pederson arrived 30 minutes after Estel had bathed Angela and put her in bed so that Dr. Jill could examine her, and it took another half an hour before she could take a shower. Guests agreed it was for the best to leave the house alone after Dr. Jill announced at dinner that it appeared Angela had measles. Lars and Annie were distressed, never having had to go through such an illness with one of their children before, and everyone agreed that they didn't need guests at a time like that. A friendly neighbor couple offered Estel a ride home, and it wasn't until she was about to leave that she realized she and Dr. Jill had never in-depth discussed her health. He walked up to her as she was about to head out the door, having concluded that she would just phone him anytime over the next week to arrange an appointment. His remarks comforted her that he would be a great doctor to have if she hadn't already formed that view. As his full attention shifted to her, he said, "I'm

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    Estel's secret torment following the abortion lasted for months, although no one except her knew about it. Some of her coworkers and friends were happy with the transformation, especially Henrick Larsen. Still, most people just noticed a little difference from the previous Estel. The new Estel gave him a lot of pleasure since she was tougher, less idealistic, and willing to take on tasks that before would have upset her. If he had known that she had adopted her current stance because she now cared less about her external circumstances, he could have had cause for concern. On the inside, her suffering was all-consuming. The feelings of remorse and doubt began soon after she got home from the hospital. She was weaker than she had anticipated after the abortion. Still, she knew that this was due more to emotional shock than to any actual physical weakness. She had taken off work for a whole week and spent much of it sitting in Central Park, looking sightlessly at the world around her. Th

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    Estel gazed at him warily, recalling with a start, why she had gone in there in the first place. Had she messed up their relationship by being so open with her emotions? What he must have seen in her eyes, he must have been waiting for her to verbalize. She licked her parched lips, attempting to gather her wits and come up with anything to save her scheme. She scolded herself for letting herself get emotionally invested so quickly in Michael. She may have just messed up the whole affair! "I, I, can wait," she stuttered, hesitating to the door. "I'm sorry to have interrupted you, Henrick." Without meeting the elder man's eyes, she profusely expressed her regrets. When Michael's voice prompted her to turn, she stretched out with a trembling hand to grasp the doorknob. He responded, "Wait a moment, Estel," seeming calmly insistent. She stopped, lowering her head in case there was still evidence of what she had felt for him to see. Michael turned to Henrick, and his voice was calmly ha

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    Estel, who was eight months pregnant, sat at her desk, engrossed in editing manuscripts. Michael enters the room, a mix of excitement and hesitation evident on his face. “Hey, love.” Michael was grinning widely “Hi there. What brings you by?” Estel Looks up, smiling at the sight of Michael. “I have something to tell you.” Michael takes a seat opposite Estel, fidgeting nervously. “Is everything alright?” Estel looks concerned. “Oh, everything's fine, more than fine actually. Next month, I'll be heading to Canada to promote my books.” Michael clasped his hands. Estel's expression changes, a flicker of concern crossing her face. “Canada? But Doctor Jill advised against traveling, especially now.” Estel’s brows furrowed. “I know, I know, but this is a big opportunity. Nancy Wilson, the literary agent, is organizing everything, and she wants me there for a series of events.” Michael explained. “And who else is going

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    Afterward, Michael felt more at ease and continued with his explanation. "When I saw you in Hendrick's office that day, I knew I couldn't leave things as they were. I'd been thinking about you for months, wanting you, and hating myself for what I'd done to you and for what I'd ruined. I had already chosen to write The Essence of a Woman. When you stepped in, I realized I had the ideal opportunity for a second chance. It was your sort of book; it had the potential to gain your respect, and while you were working on it, I believed I could win you over. Estel's mouth scrunched up in response to his statements about earning her respect. Still, Michael did not allow her an opportunity to respond to his statement. "Only I kept repeating myself with you," he said with regret, "making the same mistakes repeatedly." "I couldn't keep my hands off you, and I couldn't keep from trying to break through that shell of yours and get at the woman I sensed was there. As a result, I ended up making you

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    Michael faced her, staring down with a sardonic and caustic attitude that made it clear that he was now a man... Estel sees him as a man in every sense of the word. After that, a serious look came over his face, and he again turned his head aside. He stated it with a strain in his voice, "I'm canceling our agreement, Estel," and the tone of his voice was harsh. Estel found herself suddenly gasping for air, and she began to shake where she was standing until she noticed a log that had just fallen nearby. She quickly moved to sit down on the log to prevent herself from falling. She questioned him, "What exactly do you mean, Michael?" with a lack of expression that belied the riot of sensations that was going on inside of her. "What exactly do you mean?" He stepped closer to her but refused to look into her eyes, even as he did so. "You're free to go," he said gloomily. "You don't have to give me a child... and you don't have to stay married to me." Estel momentarily suppressed her exp

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    By the time they boarded the plane to go to Aspen to visit Michael's parents, Estel was at her wit's end. She prayed to God for a miracle so that Michael would recognize her deep love for him. It would be a miracle in their marriage if only he could bring himself to love her as much as she loved him. Estel hoped that Michael's parents would convince him to love her. When Estel first saw the tall, stately, and beautiful woman who was Michael's mother and his father's equally tall but less awesome figure, she felt a surge of animosity toward the couple. She wondered if they were the key to Michael's inability to respond to the love she was offering him. Estel's first impression of Michael's mother and father caused her to feel this way. Estel had thought that Michael had made it past his childhood difficulties. Still, the people in his life may have permanently damaged him and given him an icy hole in his heart—a spot that he desired love to so severely fill. However, as Mrs. Jensen c

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    Dr. Jill's tone was tense and insistent as he said, "For the love of God, why not?!?" "Without honesty, a marriage is not good for much, Estel. Your husband has the right to know that you're not the type of woman to be so callous, and you have the right to his unstinting regard. Why are you refraining from honest communication?" As Estel closed her eyes, she pondered how to explain the situation, even though she wasn't entirely sure of the cause. "For one thing," she said as she opened her eyes and walked aside to peer into the dimly lit garden, "the child was his." She took a momentary pause and looked back at Dr. Jill, during which she noticed a dawning of comprehension in his eyes. She stated this with a delay in her voice that made it clear, at least to Dr. Jill, how profoundly the pain of that hatred had affected her. "He hated me when he found out I'd aborted his child," she added. "For all that I know, he probably still does," she said with a softer tone. Dr. Jill was about t

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    When Piers Shaw pointed her toward Lars Pederson's library, she was so focused on following him that she hardly heard him whisper, "Certainly." She had a strong desire to be left alone, but she was astute enough to recognize that Piers wouldn't abandon her if he believed she required assistance. She also realized that, at this time, having Piers assist her would be far preferable to asking Michael to accompany her. It was perfectly conceivable that Piers would go and tell her husband about her sudden unsteadiness if she refused to take his arm, and she couldn't risk that happening for the time being since she couldn't afford to. Just as they were about to enter the library, she heard Dr. Jill's soothing voice calling her name. "Estel! How good it is to see you again!" She had the need to flee, but after a little pause during which she was undecided about what to do, she gently turned around to find the elderly guy walking toward her with a warm greeting gleaming over his kind face.

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    Estel was overjoyed to see that her efforts had unquestionably been effective as Michael gave her first a fleeting look, then returned his sight to her a second time, his eyes widening with admiration as he took in the image she produced. Michael had arrived late and had to rush to get dressed. When he walked in, she was striking a nonchalant stance in front of the windows, even though her heart raced with panic. Her manner, however, was calm and collected. The shell-white, body-hugging dress was silky and flowed over one shoulder, revealing the milky tan. The garment clung closely to her shape and emphasized her curves. The only other jewelry she wore was a pair of gold earrings that dangled from her ears and a gold slave bracelet that she wore on the naked right side of her wrist. Her tresses were pulled away from her face and rolled into a complete roll at the back of her head. The light hanging above brought out the shimmering highlights in her hair. She was aware that she was be

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