Chapter 12

A dark depressing heaviness lay itself upon Catherine, filling her dizzy mind with wafts of mist. It dispelled her fear and buried that paralysing panic under a veil of oblivion. Catherine felt her body sinking deeper and deeper into the soft upholstery of the sofa, felt the comforting warmth of the blanket surrounding her like a protective cocoon - helping to block out all bleakness of the world.
"I'm sorry," Henry's gentle words cut through the mist what prompted Catherine to open her eyes and seek her husband's gaze in the dimly lighted room.
When was the last time Henry had apologized to her for anything while sounding so sincere and penitential?
"For what exactly?" She asked, staying in her lying position.

Henry, who sat cross-legged on the carpet next to the couch, looked up at her and scooted a bit closer with a sad expression on his face.
"For way too much. I don't even know where to start."
She had rarely seen her charismatic as well as energetic husband so helpless, eaten away by self-reproaches. A sight that broke her heart.
"Maybe at the beginning?", she suggested drowsily, trying to sound encouraging.
"Sometimes I feel like there is no beginning and no end, Catherine. We are constantly moving in an endless circle and I'm afraid I've lost my orientation meanwhile. But my heart is bleeding when I see you like this. When I see what those bastards did to you and - even if it sounds selfish - what they've also done to me. It's not nice to be reminded of what kind of a cold-hearted asshole I tend to be."

His last words caused Catherine to straighten up. It hurt her in an unexpected way to hear her husband speak so badly of himself. After all, it was not him who had raped her. Even in her mind she still recoiled from using the word rape. Timidly she shook her head. Partly to shake off the unpleasant thoughts, partly to show him that she disagreed.
"Only sometimes, Henry." She paused for a moment, searching for the right words before continuing. "But not today. Today you behaved unexpectedly... sweet."

"What I've said to you in the elevator, Kitten, I really mean it."
His affirmation made her shy away from him. She just wasn't ready. Neither to hear words of this kind from him, nor to analyze their meaning or even imagining what impact this might have on their broken marriage. As if guessing her thoughts, Henry held up his hands in a disarming gesture. "I'm not telling you this to put pressure on you, rather to show you that there is still some hope for us. You alone choose WHEN or even IF we're going to fix our marriage, Catherine. But most importantly you have to get better and even though I know that you won't like to hear it – but you're going to need help. Professional help."
Slowly as if moving in slow motion Henry reached out for her and he only stopped his movement mere millimeters before he could actually touch her.
Was it intentional or coincidental that his intention, as well as his words left it to her to take this last, most important step?

Catherine hesitantly raised her hand in his direction until her fingertips brushed his. For a moment she paused until her fingers finally closed around her husband's. The warmth of his skin instantly crept up her arm, spreading his heat slowly but steadily through her body.
She brought his hand to her lips and placed a gossamer kiss on his knuckles. Then she curled herself up on the sofa and closed her eyes. Still clasping his hand tightly.

She involuntarily recalled the first weeks after her rape. At that time she had hardly been able to endure Henry's presence in their shared bed. She had not only felt helpless and vulnerable but also unfair on her husband who had shown her nothing but love, sympathy and patience. And yet, his closeness had intensified the anxiety attacks and panic she constantly felt. So Henry had gallantly offered to sleep on the sofa as not to unnecessarily increase her agony. He however had spend every night sitting next to her on the floor, holding and stroking her hand until she fell asleep. Only then had he retired to his uncomfortable couch.

"Could you do me a favor?", His deep voice broke the silence and Catherine lifted her head to get a better look at him.
"What kind of favor?" She asked skeptically but did not let go of his hand.
"I want you to give your therapist a call tomorrow morning. Please."
This night turned out to be full of surprises. First he had apologized to her and now he had actually pronounced the word "please"? Since no one knew better than her that she indeed ought to give Doris a call rather urgently, she gave in without a fight.
"I'm going to call her." Her answer caused Henry to bring her hand to his lips to tenderly kiss the back of her hand in turn.

"Thank you. Do you think you will be able to go back to sleep?"
The softness of his words touched her.
"I think so."
"Would you like to stay here or should I put you to bed?"
"Put me to bed?" She raised an eyebrow and looked quizzically at her husband.
"Yes, am I speaking so indistinctly?" Henry joked to lighten up the mood.
"No, it's rather your choice of words that irritates me," she shot back. "But I would actually prefer to sleep in my own bed. Or at least try to."
Henry nodded, reducing the distance between them.

"Trust me, okay?" He whispered while rising from his seated position. Then he laid her hand he was still holding over his neck. His other hand reached under her knees and his eyes searched for her approval. It was not until she indicated a nod when his right hand moved to her back to pick Catherine up and carefully carry her upstairs.

She knew she could walk herself but at that moment she had neither the strength nor the energy to insist on her emancipation, thus she leaned her head against his chest and closed her eyes. For this was the first time in a long time she had the feeling of being able to fully and blindly rely on Henry.

With utmost care her husband put her down on the mattress and gave her a small embarrassed smile. One she timidly returned.
"Do you need something else?" He asked in a raspy voice whereupon she shook her head.
At the very same time they reached for her blanket, their hands touching again. His thumb stroked gently over the back of her hand before he released her so she could curl up under the duvet.
"Thank you." Quite obviously Henry wasn't the only one to swallow his pride on this special night of revelations.

She was surprised that instead of giving her a direct answer he just silently stroked her cheek. Then he nodded and rose. But before her husband could leave the room, Catherine sat up and softly called his name.
"Henry?" As expected, he turned around immediately.
"Yes, Kitten?!"
"Would you mind staying a bit longer?" Her voice sounded terribly uncertain and fragile. She almost regretted expressing her request verbally. But Henry did not hesitate for a second, he merely closed the door, dimmed the light and sat down on the white flokati right beside her bed.
"No, of course I won't mind." After his assurance she held up her hand and her husband instantly reached out for her.
"Until I fall asleep?"
"I'll stay as long as you want me to stay."

I'm sorry that it took me some time to finally write / translate / post this update. I'm kind of struggling with work and life so unfortunately my writing time is somehow limited right now. But it will get better - hopefully.

Many many thanks for your kind and encouraging reviews. I'm always blown away by them. Thank you, thank you, thank you.