Chapter 10

Half an hour and one additional cigarette later Catherine returned to her office. She still didn't feel up to the mark emotionally speaking but in the meantime she had been able to control the inner turmoil Henry had stirred in order to turn her attention back to her workload.
Charlotte greeted her with an apologetic smile and a list of customer names that were in desperate need of a callback. Sighing heavily, the CEO resumed her work.
She had to postpone questioning Francis about his lunch with Mary Scott until after work, because no matter how much her curiosity tormented her, there were more urgent things on her agenda right now.

Several hours later Catherine leaned back in her chair, feeling exhausted after a tiring conference call with a new potential key account customer. When she took a look at her watch she was shocked to realize that it was already past 6:30 PM. Grimacing she rolled her shoulders and stretched her arms to loosen the tension in her neck. She marked the last name off her list and made a short note of the next action points for further negotiations.
For a brief moment she considered starting yet another project but then decided against it. The events of the day had stressed her more than she liked to admit and all she was craving for was a relaxing bubble bath and a good glass of red wine.

She checked her phone for new messages while waiting for her notebook to shutdown. To her uttermost surprise Henry of all people had texted her two hours ago.
"Kitten, I'll get dinner today. Just let me know when you leave the office. Take care and watch this leadfoot of yours."
Slightly irritated she stared at the message and read his words a second time. She didn't even know what stunned her most. His offer to get dinner or his mild reproach to drive carefully. Both were rather uncharacteristic for her husband. What the hell was going on?

She categorically ruled out that he planned to do his own cooking.
For a moment she wondered if he was actually considering to take her out to her favorite Italian restaurant, but she immediately rejected that thought. He knew damn well what she thought about this prosposal and Henry would not waste his energy on a lost cause. That was not like him.
Presumably the children had forced him to buy them some decent food and after their little roll in the elevator he just wanted to show her that he was willing to get her some dinner as well even though she failed to do the same yesterday evening.

With a queasy feeling in her stomach and as neutral as possible she wrote him that she was on her way now. Her first impulse had been to send him a snappish response but that would only lead to another argument and she had no strength left for that.

She arrived at home half an hour later. The second she got out of her car, a green unmarked van stopped in the driveway behind her and the front door was torn open the very same moment.
"There you are, perfect timing," Henry exclaimed with a big grin on his face and rushed towards her and the driver. "Everything is already set up. Why don't you go inside, I'll be back in a minute?" He directed her into the house with gentle force. With a perplexed expression she watched Henry accepting a box and handing the man some bills in return. "Here, keep the change."
"What's going on if you don't mind me asking?"
"That's our dinner. Come on." Catherine suspiciously followed him into the dining room.

The table was only set for two. Henry had even used the good dinnerware and expensive cloth napkins. Soft candlelight bathed the room in a cosy and dim light. But what irritated her the most was a beautiful bouquet of red roses that adorned the table.
Perplexed she watched her husband who took several bowls out of the box that was labeled with their favorite Italian's logo. Panino. With great care Henry arranged the food on their plates.
"Spaghetti alla puttanesca and insalata caprese for Madame. Buon appetito." Catherine stared at the two plates in bewilderment.

She seemed to remember that Panino had taken her favorite pasta off their menu several years ago and as far as she knew they also didn't offer any delivery service. How on earth had he managed to place this special order?

"You didn't feel like going out for dinner... and I thought, well, if you're not willing to go then let's take the food to you. I hope you still like spaghetti alla puttanesca?" Her husband sounded uncertain all of a sudden and looked at her with such a sincere look that striked Catherine at the very heart.
"Of course, I love them... but Henry, they took this dish off their menu – years ago." At that remark he gave her a broad, almost smug smile.
"And I just asked them nicely to prepare it for you none the less. Do you want some fresh Parmesan?" She nodded taken aback when Henry questioningly held up a piece of Parmesan and eagerly started to grate cheese over her pasta.
The flowers, Henry's behavior, this dinner in general - the whole situation seemed surreal.

"What about the children?", she wanted to know.
"They will eat something in the city with their friends at the expense of their old man and go to the cinema afterwards. Please, enjoy. We shouldn't let the food get cold. Some red wine?" This time he didn't even wait for her answer but poured her a glass of wine instead. "À ta santé."
Reluctantly she raised hers and clinked glasses with her husband who rewarded her with a big smile.
"Salute," she mumbled and took a first sip.
Apparently money was no object to Henry this evening as he had selected one of his very expensive, special quality French wines.

The fine aroma of fresh tomato paired with the tangy cheese rose to her nose and Catherine realized how hungry she was. After putting a shovelful of noodles into her mouth she closed her eyes in pleasure.
"Good?" Her husband asked with a mischievous grin and tried his own food.
"I'd forgotten how good this tastes," she confirmed and noticed that a tiny smile fluttered about her own lips. Today was a day full of surprises.

"I'm glad you like it. How was your day?" At that question she lowered the fork she was about to put in her mouth.
"Is this going to be that kind of conversation? We talk about our jobs, then chat about the weather and our kids in case we run out of other topics? Henry, what's this all about?" With a sweeping gesture she pointed at their festively set table.
"I was just hoping to spend a quiet and nice evening with my wife. Delicious food, good wine... Can't we just pretend that we're a normal couple? If only for a brief moment?", Henry asked and Catherine did not know how to interpret the intense gaze he was throwing her way.
"We are far from being a normal couple, Henry." She failed to hide the resignation that subliminally clung to her words.

"Normal or not, Catherine. We ARE married to each other. And I think it's time for both of us to start acting like a married couple once again." Catherine couldn't do anything but stare open-mouthed at her husband after this revelation.
"I'm pretty happy with the way things are right now," she said, trying to keep her composure and a calm tone. To mentally strengthen herself she reached for her wine glass and took a big gulp.
"That's bullshit, kitten. You're equally frustrated and annoyed by the situation as I am." Henry wound up some spaghetti on his fork and put it in his mouth. His eyes were constantly focused on her. "I do not want to argue with you, Catherine. Please, dear, eat."

It's been a while since she had last seen her husband being so focused on her and her welfare. She stared at her plate in uncertainty and impaled a black olive with her fork.
"I don't want to argue either," she confessed and put the olive in her mouth, whereupon he smiled and nodded in understanding.
"It's nice that we've finally found something we can agree upon."
"And that is nothing short of a miracle," she sighed and continued to eat.

To her surprise they survived the rest of their dinner without any further foot-in-mouth-disease.
In fact, she even started to relax a bit and if she was honest with herself, she actually enjoyed Henry's casual banter.
When she pushed back her plate – feeling stuffed to the gills and utterly satisfied - her husband got up to take the dishes to the kitchen.
"I hope you left some room for the dessert?" He shouted from the adjacent room.
"No chance," she refused in agony. Henry said something she couldn't understand and started to rumble noisyly in the kitchen. A short while later he served her an espresso. Her husband still seemed to know her habits quite well.

When he emerged from the kitchen a second time, he held a plate with an amply portion of tiramisu in his hands. With a big grin he placed the desert in font of him.
"Too bad that you're already done," he said with a rascally smirk and cut out a big piece with great to-do. He delightfully enjoyed his first bite. "Mhmmm!"
Struggling for self-control, Catherine stirred her espresso while Henry devoured another piece of tiramisu. Her gaze wandered between the plate with her favorite Italian delicacy and Henry's sensual lips where the food disappeared.
When her husband cut off another piece, Catherine's mouth was already watering.

But instead of eating the next portion himself, Henry offered it to his wife instead. Willingly she opened her mouth and allowed Henry to feed her. When the rich cocoa and mocha flavor exploded in her mouth, a rapturous sigh escaped her throat.
"Oh dear lord, that's good!"
"Isn't it?!"

Henry offered her his fork once again, he even teased her for a second but then fed her one more time. The next portion he ate himself but shortly thereafter he offered her the next piece.
Only after they had polished off the last crumb, Henry lowered his fork and gave her his most handsome smile.
He refilled their glasses, handed Catherine hers and reached for her hand to lead her to the coach.
"To us," he raised his glass to her.
Since she still wasn't sure how to assess this strange situation, she simply stared at him questioningly.
"What's wrong?" Henry wanted to know but Catherine shook her head, not knowing what exactly was bothering her the most.
"You tell me", she said.

"If we were a normal couple, I would say: Nothing is wrong, I'm just having a romantic evening with my lovely wife. But we are not normal, kitten, and truth be told, I have no idea what I'm doing here. All I know is that I've enjoyed each second with you and I hope that we can do this more often. Please tell me that it's not too late for us, Catherine."

The brutal honesty of his words was disarming and at the same time his confession made her speechless.
"I ... Henry ...", she stopped, searching for words, but there was a frightening void in her head while thousands of butterflies started fluttering wildly in her stormach.
Henry came closer, took away her wine glass and kissed her a second later. His warm hands encircled her face and his fingers stroked her cheeks and chin in a soft caress.
"Something that feels so good can't possibly be wrong, can it?" He whispered against her lips and gently pushed her into the soft cushions of the sofa.

This time he didn't jump her bones immediately but contented himself with kissing her tenderly and caressing her hands and face with a devotion that brought tears to her eyes. Disappeared was this domineering hunger and lust that always overcame them and automatically resulted in wild, feral sex. No, his kisses were light, almost playful and his touch unbearably tender and soft. Just like it used to be. Just like before...

...before these animals had raped her and robbed her not only of her self-respect but also of her strength and left her bleeding and broken on the filthy floor of a basement garage.
Her heart began to race wildly when an invisible force pressed down on her chest and slowly drew out her breath. She sensed the familiar feeling of a rising panic rear up its ugly head. With a silent scream on her lips she pushed Henry away.
"I can't," she laboriously whispered and fled.

It's update-time, my dears. Many many thanks for your reviews and your kind words. This is so encouraging - you can't imagine... Thank you.

Well, I'm sorry but the path our beloved Catherine has to walk now will be anything but nice.
But maybe Henry will eventually find out that his wife is hiding something from him. And that she hasn't overcome her trauma by any means.

Thanks again.