Andrew watched Abigail wobble and did not hesitate. He scooped her up in his arms, then carried her to the room where Jason’s presence was still so palpable. She had not removed any of his things, and Andrew had to stifle the desire to scream when he entered. Controlling the urge, he put her gently on the bed. “You must rest, dear one. You have the babe to think of. It will not be long now before your child is born, and you are in no condition to go through a birth.”
“I cannot think of that right now.” Her features were sunken, her frame shrunken so that her large stomach stood out and made her look fragile beneath it. “Andrew, how did this happen? How, in a single night, did the entire fabric of our universe unravel?” Her eyes were staring straight up at the ceiling as she spoke. Then she squeezed them shut and lifted a hand to rub at them. “I cannot believe they are gone.”
Andrew beheld her silently for a moment, sitting beside her. “Did you come to love him so much, Abigail?”
“No.” Her voice was choked. “And that is wormwood to me. I wanted to love him. He had changed so, turned into such a good man, Andrew. He loved me very much, and he did so much to earn my affections.” She shook her head, looking miserable. “If we had had more time–perhaps he would have overcome my last reserve.”
That was not what he wanted to hear. He took her hand in one of his and ran the knuckles of the other softly over her cheek. “Abigail, I must know: do you still love me?”
She looked at him at last. He searched her eyes for the Abigail he knew, the Abigail full of life and intelligence and wonder. In her place, he saw a woman with no hope, no feeling, no desires at all. But then she smiled at him, and though it was but an echo as from afar off, he saw a sparkle of his old Abigail there. It was enough for him. “I will always love you, Andrew. How can you ask?”
“These past months we have lived separate lives. You are a mistress now, a wife, now a widow. I am still a slave.”
“You are still my friend.”
He lifted her hand to his lips. “I wish I had the right to ask you to be mine, dear one. But it is surely not possible now. You cannot marry a slave when you are mother to the heir to the Visibullis wealth.”
“If it is a girl, then this physician cousin will gain it all, anyway.” Her eyes moved to his once more, and she squeezed his hand. “Let us see, Andrew. My mourning has many days left, and I need them. Perhaps. . . .”
“Yes, perhaps.” Andrew smiled sincerely for the first time since he was told of her impending wedding.
*
Menelaus walked into the barracks where the centurions resided, scanning the selection of men until he found the one he wanted. He approached Titus with squared shoulders. It seemed as though they had nothing in common now that Jason was gone. Lentulus and Apidius had made no attempt to spend time with them. It was as though, even when not around them much, Jason had been the element that bound them together.
To Menelaus, it felt like an affront to his friend’s memory to tolerate the distance between those of them remaining. Still, he suspected it was hopeless. Titus would be leaving in a fortnight, heading back to Rome. Apidius would be transferred to Corinth within six months. A chapter of his life was over permanently, and he had a feeling those to follow would never be as carefree as this past one.
“Titus.”
The man looked up, his expression softening slightly. “Menelaus.”
“I am going to offer my condolences to Abigail and Ester. I did not want to go too soon, but I have heard that Ester is ill.”
Titus nodded. “Tell Abigail about the crucifixion.”
Menelaus nearly growled. “Tell her yourself. You are coming with me. Apidius and Lentulus refused, and it is shameful. We were his friends, and we have shown no respect.”
Titus did not even look up. “I put in an appearance at the burial. But it is a bit hard to go and talk to someone about how nicely the weather is warming up when the last time one spoke to said person was in telling her that her husband is dead.”
“Jason would expect it.”
Titus cursed and threw down the piece of leather he had been working. “Jason would understand. It was his greatest virtue. He never pushed points.”
“Of course he did! He manipulated you more than anyone, Titus. In the name of Jove, he was getting paid by your father.”