Thank you for the lovely reviews and words of support and wishes for healing. Eyes are doing a lot better; now just to catch up on everything that didn't get done. I did want to be sure to get this posted today though. I truly appreciate everyone's patience.

The next few days found Christopher spending most of his time in bed, alone in bed. To his consternation, Sam refused to join him at night, opting to sleep in Andrew's room instead. She said she worried that she might aggravate his sore ribs in her sleep and he had to admit that at times she was a restless sleeper, but he knew her reasons were more ominous than that. Although her anger had abated somewhat, Sam was still upset with him, very upset. Worse than that, he was beginning to understand that his actions had undermined her trust in him in some measure. Though she tended to him, helping him when he needed it and ensuring he had plenty to eat and drink, there was a distinct frostiness in her demeanor and he knew he had only himself to blame. But the worst were the nights. He'd grown accustomed to her warmth beside him at night and now the bed was as chilly as her attitude. As he began to heal and spent more time awake, Christopher contemplated a way to remedy the situation.

Finally one afternoon, hearing Sam on the landing as she brought the laundry up, Christopher called out to her. Because Sam was Sam and being helpful was a part of her, she appeared immediately, her arms laden with the linens that hadn't made it to the cupboard next to the bathroom. "Yes?" she said as she stood next to the bed.

"I ... I thought we might talk," Christopher said hesitantly. There was something in her expression that made him wary.

"Talk? About what?"

"Aabout... well, aabout what happened and ... about how it is affecting us," he replied.

"Christopher, I have laundry to finish and a stew on the hob that needs tending. Plus, I received a letter from my mother that I need to answer." Her tone was direct and cold.

"Rright. Yes. Well, I tthink we, the two of us together, are more important than those things at the moment. Seeing no break in the ice, he implored her. "Please Sam. We can't continue like this."

She blinked and for a moment he thought she might tear up, but then she let out a long sigh. Then a short huff. "Alright. Let me put these away and turn down the heat on the hob. I'll just be a few minutes." And without another glance, she was out of the room.

Christopher was nervous, more nervous than he could remember being in recent years. He couldn't cock this up. How could he have been so foolish, he asked himself as he had countless times since it all happened.

As promised, Sam returned to the room a few minutes later. She sat hesitantly at the end of the bed opposite him, far out of his reach. And she said nothing.

Ah, so it is on me to start, he thought. "Ssam, I really am sorry. You have every reason to be upset with me, angry even. But I am going to be alright and I promise I will never do anything so foolish again. Aand I want things back the way they were before I behaved so stupidly." He gave he his best remorseful look, one that had worked with Rosalind most of the time. But Sam wasn't impressed and she just looked back at him, her face seemingly frozen in an impassive position. "Sam please," he said softly, nearly at the point of begging. "I do love you, you know; so very much. And this... this distance between us... I can't bear it. I know I've hurt you and I'm sorry. Can you not find a way to forgive me?"

Christopher was worried. It was rare for Sam to be so quiet. And yet, here they were and strangely enough, he was doing all the talking. She had yet to utter a word.

Finally she looked down and took a deep breath. He thought she might be about to speak but instead she just looked back up at him, tears in her eyes. He tilted his head, his face forming a genuine frown as he contemplated once again how deeply he had hurt her.

Sam often confused him, confounded him even, and sometimes frustrated him. That of course, was in between the times she lifted his spirits and brought him joy. But these days, he was more frustrated with himself than with Sam. And now seeing the hurt in her eyes, he was feeling quite small. "If I could go back, change it all, I would," he offered. "But I can't. But Sam, I am truly sorry."

Tears began to roll down her face. "You frightened me, quite a lot. More than I've ever been frightened before. I've always credited you with such good sense and then... then you... Oh Christopher, I couldn't bear it if ... if... what if you had been killed? What should I have done then? I... have to be able to trust you not to act so foolishly again."

A small smile threatened at the corner of his mouth. Finally, the ice was breaking. "Never again, Sam; I promise. Wwon't even go to the shops without your permission. Or perhaps you should accompany me, not let me out of your sight to ensure my best behavior." He looked at her stoically, the only hint of his teasing the slight glimmer in his eyes. But it was enough because Sam recognized it.

"I should." She looked away again and sighed. "I don't want us to be like that... or like we are now. I do love you, Christopher; so much that it hurts to think of what might have happened. I know you are mending but... I can't help but worry. You really promise?"

Christopher almost missed her question as relief swept through him. He was to be forgiven. He looked at her expectant expression and nodded. "I do. Aand I take it seriously, as seriously as my wedding vows."

He spied the beginning of her grin and watched it slowly grow. "Well, I... I suppose if you really mean it... then I... yes, I forgive you." She cast a warm glance his way and Christopher, feeling overwhelming relief, answered her warmth with a smile of his own.

"Does this mean I might have a kiss?" he asked cheekily.

"Your forgiveness is not that complete," she countered. "Perhaps a hug?"

"Mmight upset the ribs," he countered.

"Oh, right. A kiss then." Sam moved from her position at the end of the bed to stand beside him. Then leaning down, she dodged his upturned face and kissed him firmly on his forehead. Christopher looked up into her mischievous face and grunted. "So that's how it is to be."

Now she was the cheeky one, grinning at him unabashedly. "It is, for now. I know what kissing leads to with you."

"Hardly ready for that," he replied sullenly. "But I do hope you'll come back to the bed with me tonight."

"But..."

"I'll sleep better with you here, Sam. Seems I grown used to your presence beside me. No mischief, just... I've missed you."

"Alright then. But just sleep."

Christopher dipped his chin in satisfaction. "Right," he replied contentedly. "Just sleep..."