Cora sat at her vanity, rubbing lotion into her hands and avoiding her reflection. She had an idea of what she would find and had no desire to confirm her suspicions. Hearing a soft knock on the dividing door, she looked up to see Robert cautiously poke his head through the door. He hesitated as though he anticipated her yelling at him and it struck her again just how she had treated him in the past weeks. Anticipating his question, she nodded her head and watched as he closed the door and shuffled over to the chair.
Folding her hands in her lap, Cora took in a deep breath and swallowed. There were so many things she needed to say, needed to apologize for. It hadn't been his fault. After weeks of accusations, avoidance, and steely silence, she had learned it was for not. Their darling Sybil would have died no matter what they had done. Every sharp and wounding word they had exchanged rang in her ears. Shame filled her anew now that she was alone with Robert. It was crippling, it was excruciating, but she forced herself to remain where she was. They needed complete reconciliation and not the tentative reunion they had experienced in Mama's sitting room or she wasn't certain they would make it through the tragedy.
Cora forced her gaze away from her interlocked hands and over to Robert. She was surprised and felt disconcerted to find him studying her. Her eyes looked into his and saw uncertainty and guardedness interspersed with the now permanent grief. She could feel tears trying to bubble up, but she pushed them back down, there was no place for them now.
"I'm sorry, Robert," she said finally, her voice low. She couldn't stand the intensity of his gaze any longer and once again lowered her eyes to her lap. Her fingers twisted around themselves and she lightly bit her bottom lip to stem the threatening emotions. "I'm so, so sorry."
She heard rather than saw Robert get up from the chair and come to kneel in front of her. He wrapped his hands around both of hers and gently squeezed.
"Cora," he said softly, "we don't have to talk about it now. We are both exhausted. There is plenty of time to talk about it later."
Her eyes snapped up. He was level with her and her eyes looked directly into his. "But it wasn't your fault," she argued with conviction, her hands tightening around his. "It was not your fault. No matter what we did, Sybil—"
Cora broke off at the utterance of her daughter's name. She looked away, a dry sob escaping her lips. Robert ran his thumbs over her knuckles to steady her. It took several moments before she was able to return her gaze to his, noting his wet eyes.
"It wasn't your fault," she stated again.
"That may be," Robert began, "but I should have listened to you. Regardless of what we know now, I should have listened to you, Cora, and I am so sorry."
His voice cracked on the last syllable and Cora lost the war she had been waging with her emotions. Tears steamed down her cheeks as she watched Robert through blurred eyes. He placed gentle kisses on her hands, murmuring an apology between each caress of his lips. Cora untangled her hands and cupped his cheeks, brushing away his tears with her fingers.
"I'll not let you take all of the blame," she stated, her voice tight. When he started to interrupt, she stopped him.
"No, Robert," she said. "I let my anger blind me to your suffering and convince me that you had no right to your grief. I left you alone, consoling myself with the fact that I thought you deserved it, that I was the only one hurting."
"My darling," he said softly, reaching out his left hand to dry the lingering tears on her cheeks. "I wasn't alone. I knew you were there."
Cora sniffed and rolled her eyes. "In the next room maybe," she remarked ruefully, her gaze falling to her lap.
"No, not in the next room." Robert brought her hands up and brushed his lips across the backs of them. "You were there every night, when the nightmares were too much to bear, keeping vigil with me until morning."
Cora raised widened eyes to meet his steady gaze. "But you were asleep," she argued softly.
Robert shook his head. "I woke every time."
Cora felt her cheeks redden and begin to burn as she looked at him through lowered lashes. "If you were awake, then did you hear…"
"I heard," he stated, love radiating from his gaze. "I heard every one of them. You can't know what it meant to me, my darling, to know that you still loved me despite everything…It is more than I deserve."
"No, Robert," she said almost harshly, her grip on his hands tight. "We've got to stop blaming ourselves…and each other."
Robert was quiet for a moment, seeming to mull it over. "No more blame," he said softly, as though the words were foreign.
"No more blame," she stated.
Their gazes locked and the thick tension that had continuously shrouded them finally released. For the first time since that horrible night, Cora felt as though she could breathe. The grief of losing Sybil was still there and always would be, but there was also a small feeling of hope. She and Robert had each other to hold onto now. They had come through the fire and would be alright.
Not able to stand the distance between them any longer, Cora reached for him and tightly wound her arms around him, sighing in relief when he hugged her back just as securely.
"I do love you," she said quietly, suddenly needing to reassure him. "I love you, Robert, so terribly terribly much."