Marcus held her carefully, one hand smoothing gently over her hair, his gaze remaining fixed on the doorway where her father, stepmother, and the uncomfortable police officer still stood, none of them quite certain how to proceed now that the situation had shifted so decisively away from whatever narrative had been in place before his arrival.
Rachel finally looked up at him, her face swollen and exhausted from crying, her voice barely a whisper as she gave voice to the exhaustion she'd clearly been carrying alone for longer than tonight's confrontation alone could account for.
"Everything's falling apart," she whispered, her eyes searching his with a despair that made his chest ache with a protective fury he was only barely managing to contain.
"No," Marcus said again, gentler this time, pressing a careful kiss against her forehead, his hand resting protectively over the curve of her pregnant belly. "It's not falling apart. It's about to get fixed. Starting right now."
He looked back toward the doorway, toward the family members who had clearly allowed this situation to continue far longer than they should have, his expression carrying an unmistakable promise that whatever conversation came next would happen entirely on his terms, and entirely in Rachel's favor.