Fran pulled away.
"Sometimes people do, but pastors and professors rarely let themselves get into that kind of predicament."
She pushed him away, but kept her gaze on him. Marcus was a tall, regal man with long limbs, long fingers, a narrow face with sculpted lips that covered well shaped teeth. When he was younger, in college, he'd had several girlfriends when she first met him. He never deceived them by pretending he was committed to just one; he told them that he was too young to settle down before he had decided on a major. Girls actually fought over him, though whenever he found out he'd distance himself from them. Marcus couldn't tolerate fighting; he didn't even tolerate conflict very well. He would refuse to be pushed into arguments and often cited both viewpoints convincingly when engaged in casual conversation. But one day, a couple years later when she had started seeing him, she saw that he did know how to fight. But it changed his life...and hers, too.
"Marcus, I want you to come with me to the doctor this Friday. My appointment's at 9am. You don't have anything too important scheduled, do you?"
Marcus sat on the edge of the desk and reached for her.
"Why are you standing so far away from me? What's wrong, babe?" Marcus looked concerned and confused. Fran let him pull her close, nestling between his longs legs as she started to bring him up to date on her decision.
"I've decided to apply to this clinical trial for a new anti-depressant. Dr. Morrell thinks--he's really positive about how it might be able to help me. From what I've read, it's a powerful drug that could eliminate depression altogether and prevent its recurrence."
Marcus listened without interrupting, his face flooding with sympathy for his wife. He suspected she didn't let him see all the pain she suffered from depression, that she covered her feelings up.
"Do you feel worse than you're letting on? I hope you don't feel that you have to conceal things from me...for any reason."
Fran thought about how to answer, all the while keeping Marcus's gaze--he wanted her to be direct and sincere.
"You more than anybody understand my condition and have always let me cope, but...I do try to rise above it, Marcus. If I succumb to it, it will paralyze me...more than it does. It's time I looked into some of the newer treatments."
Marcus continued to study her, trying to hear between the lines.
"Of course, I'll go with you. I like Dr. Morrell. He's been a big help. I'll agree with this if you
"Sometimes people do, but pastors and professors rarely let themselves get into that kind of predicament."
She pushed him away, but kept her gaze on him. Marcus was a tall, regal man with long limbs, long fingers, a narrow face with sculpted lips that covered well shaped teeth. When he was younger, in college, he'd had several girlfriends when she first met him. He never deceived them by pretending he was committed to just one; he told them that he was too young to settle down before he had decided on a major. Girls actually fought over him, though whenever he found out he'd distance himself from them. Marcus couldn't tolerate fighting; he didn't even tolerate conflict very well. He would refuse to be pushed into arguments and often cited both viewpoints convincingly when engaged in casual conversation. But one day, a couple years later when she had started seeing him, she saw that he did know how to fight. But it changed his life...and hers, too.
"Marcus, I want you to come with me to the doctor this Friday. My appointment's at 9am. You don't have anything too important scheduled, do you?"
Marcus sat on the edge of the desk and reached for her.
"Why are you standing so far away from me? What's wrong, babe?" Marcus looked concerned and confused. Fran let him pull her close, nestling between his longs legs as she started to bring him up to date on her decision.
"I've decided to apply to this clinical trial for a new anti-depressant. Dr. Morrell thinks--he's really positive about how it might be able to help me. From what I've read, it's a powerful drug that could eliminate depression altogether and prevent its recurrence."
Marcus listened without interrupting, his face flooding with sympathy for his wife. He suspected she didn't let him see all the pain she suffered from depression, that she covered her feelings up.
"Do you feel worse than you're letting on? I hope you don't feel that you have to conceal things from me...for any reason."
Fran thought about how to answer, all the while keeping Marcus's gaze--he wanted her to be direct and sincere.
"You more than anybody understand my condition and have always let me cope, but...I do try to rise above it, Marcus. If I succumb to it, it will paralyze me...more than it does. It's time I looked into some of the newer treatments."
Marcus continued to study her, trying to hear between the lines.
"Of course, I'll go with you. I like Dr. Morrell. He's been a big help. I'll agree with this if you
