Chapter 13

"Oh dear me," Catherine muttered when she looked at her desolate reflection in the bathroom mirror.
Her skin was unnaturally pale, dark crater-like circles adorned her tired and sleep-glued eyes and her otherwise perfectly styled hair looked like a crow's nest.
She hadn't slept much last night, but blessedly the last few hours had been free of nightmares and anxiety attacks.

"Catherine?!"
There was a soft knock at the door that connected the bathroom and Henry's bedroom. Their shared bathroom was actually a walk-through room and separated his bedroom from hers, but during the last years both of them had taken great care not to disturb each other's privacy.
But the events of the previous night had apparently torn down most of the protective walls she had raised and blurred her carefully drawn boundary lines.
After a moment's hesitation she moved to his connecting door and opened it.

"Henry?", she whispered, looking questioningly up at him while his critical eyes glided over her form. "Don't. I look awful," she said contritely, being more than aware of his visual examination.
"You look like someone who had a hard night." Her husband answered and reached for her hand. "Were you able to finally get some rest?"
She just nodded instead of a direct answer, prompting him to raise her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her hand like he did the night before.
"I'm glad. Francis is downstairs and he brought breakfast. Why don't you ready yourself, put on some comfortable clothes and come down so we can have breakfast together? Claude is already on her way but Charlie has a free period this moring and still has some time before he needs to leave."

She was surprised how well he was informed about their children's day routine. And the idea of having breakfast with her husband and sons was beautiful and tempting at the same time. But a scrutinizing look at Henry's expensive Rolex revealed that it was almost half past seven and that there was no time for idleness of this kind. Her first conference call was already scheduled for eight o'clock.
Henry, who had caught her scrutinizing look at his watch, put his hands on Catherine's shoulders. She automatically looked up at him.
"Kitten, I've already called Charlotte and..."
"I beg your pardon? You've called me in sick? Henry!" Catherine stared at her husband in shock but he instantly let go of her and raised his hands in defense.

"No, Catherine. I wouldn't dare. I just called your assistant and asked her to postpone your earliest meetings and that you have an important private appointment this morning. That's why you'll be working from home today. I know how important your work is to you and that you find distraction in it. But Kitten, the most important thing today is that you make an appointment with your therapist. I don't ever want to experience a night like this again."
The sincerity of his words was reflected in his gentle brown eyes. Eyes that looked at her with an intensity that made turning away impossible. And even though he forbore to verbally reminded her of her promise to finally seek help, his eyes were quite clear for that matter.
"Neither do I," she whispered abashed and the moment the words left her mouth she realized that they weren't a lame glib platitude to reassure her husband, but the simple truth. She never wanted to find herself in a situation like that ever again.

"This leads me to hope that you're not angry."
"I am not. Strange but true."
"Then I'm some lucky bastard. I'll leave you alone now. See you downstairs."
Henry leaned down and startled her with a tender kiss on her forehead.

Once Henry had left the bathroom, Catherine looked at herself in the mirror. Was she just imagining it, or had the color returned to her cheeks?

Catherine appeared in the kitchen twenty minutes later and took in the smell of freshly toasted bread and coffee. Henry and Francis were sitting at the kitchen island in the middle of the room while Charlie had made himself comfortable on the sideboard. All three looked up when she entered the room.
"Good Morning."

Being more than aware of three pairs of eyes that studied her, Catherine crossed the kitchen to greet first Francis and then Charlie. The latter turned away from her in annoyance whereupon she ran her hand through his tousled hair with a heavy sigh.
"Don't do that, mum!" He immediately complained and brought his hair back in disorder.
When Catherine turned around, she caught Henry staring hat her. She questioningly raised an eyebrow which made her husband smile benignly at her.
"I don't even remember the last time I saw you in jeans," he said standing up to prepare a cup of coffee for her.

Catherine looked skeptically at the blurry and unfamiliar reflection in the glass of the baking oven. It has been indeed a long time since she'd seen herself being casually dressed like this. Still, she felt unexpectedly comfortable in her oversized wool sweater and her washed-out jeans.
"You should wear them more often, it looks great on you," Henry announced, coming over to hand her a cup of cappuccino. Then he gently directed her to one of the chairs. There was already a plate with a fresh bagel with cream cheese waiting for her.

Catherine sat down and suddenly became aware that both her children were giving them irritated looks.
"What? Am I not allowed to pay my wife a compliment?" Henry asked, who hadn't missed his sons questioning glances either.
"Of course you are allowed to do so. At least it's a nice change. But you have to forgive me nonetheless if I find your behavior a bit strange this morning." Francis replied, rubbing his chin engrossed in thought.
"Maybe he's running a fever?" Charlie guessed.
Catherine had following her men's exchange half alerted, half amused. She leaned over the counter and touched Henry's forehead.
"No fever," she explained succinctly, whereupon her husband and Charles laughed and Francis just shook his head and rolled his eyes. Henry winked at her in amusement.
"Eat, Kitten!"

"Now I think I know why theboth of you are looking so tired today." Francis' words made Catherine drop her bagel she was just about to raise to her mouth.
"Excuse me? What?" She croaked.
"Nothing you have to sanctify." Francis raised his hands appeasingly. First he looked at her and then at his father. "After all you're married. To each other. It's just unusual. Kind of."

"What I would like to know, Francis: What's going on between Mary Scott and you?" Catherine asked to divert everyone's attention from Henry's and her relationship and their recent truce to another topic.
"Why do you ask? We just had a business lunch."
The female CEO gave her oldest son a keen look.
"And?" She asked slowly, realizing that he would not reveal any further detail of his own volition, although his eyes spoke volumes.

She had never seen this kind of light in Francis' eyes before. A glow that reminded her of his father and a time when she had been the one who had sparked this radiance in his eyes.
"There is no AND. We had a long conversation about her company. And her parents."
"And?", Catherine remained defiant. She sensed that Francis's interest was far more than purely professional.
"And we agreed on a new date for another meeting." At this information Catherine raised an eyebrow, bit into her bagel and chewed carefully before grilling her son once again.
"Another meeting? When? Not today by any chance?"
"No. Not today." One single intense look was all it took to make her son cave. "Okay, tomorrow."

Both of them knew that there was no real reason for a follow-up meeting right now because first Catherine had to work out and prepare a tentative offer with her lawyer before they could proceed with their negotiations.
"Mhm," she murmured, unable to suppress the smug grin that spread all over her face.
"Charlie, we'd better leave now or you'll be late." Francis said, deliberately avoiding his mother's curious questions. He had probably inherited her pronounced skill of abruptly changing the subject in unpleasant situations.

Charles jumped off the kitchen counter with an indignant growl and lazily scuffed his feet across the floor without lifting them.
"Dad, about my laptop... I really need it back, you know," he said to Henry who stroked his stubbly chin.
"Did you do what your mum told you to do?"
Catherine was mildly irritated by this reply and curious about the further course of this conversation so she leaned forward in her chair.
"Man, tidying up gives bad vibes. How should a man feel confortable in a neat and cleaned up room? "His cocky words triggered a suppressed chuckle in the back of her throat but she tried to remain indifferent.
"You still got a long way to go, my son. And if you want your laptop back before you reach the age of majority, then you'd better clean up your mess."
"That's completely uncool," Charlie grumble and closed the door with an irritated expression on his young face.

"What happened to: Taking away his notebook is the wrong signal?", she wanted to know as soon as they were alone in the kitchen. Secretly, however, she enjoyed the feeling that he finally seemed to act in concert with her.
"I have probably readjusted my own antennas to get a better signal myself."
His statement elicited Catherine a throaty laugh.
"You should do that more often from now on," she recommended and heartily bit into her bagel.

Henry rose to get himself another coffee. When he returned to the kitchen island, he did not revert to his chair as expected but paused to stand right behind her and caressed her shoulders instead.
"You are very... physical today," she told him.
"Physically, Kitten?" Waggishness flashed from his dark eyes when he finally turned to face her and settled in the chair next to his wife.
"You know what I mean!"

Her statement caused Henry to stroke her leg.
"Do I?" Catherine rolled her eyes, but tolerated his touch.
"Yes! And thanks to you, Francis thinks now that yesterday we've had..." She left the rest of her sentence unsaid, inducing Henry to pick up on it immediately.
"...hot and phenomenal sex? We've had exactly that, my dear." He explained as a matter of course. A naturalness she could not muster at that moment.
"Don't you remind me!" She demanded, hiding her face in her hands, feeling embarrassed.
"Then let me remind you that you've promised to call your therapist?"

His voice had suddenly taken on a very gentle tone and even the playful undertone that he had displayed seconds before, had given way to earnestness. Catherine slowly raised her head and turned to her husband, who looked her intensely and slowly raised his hand to brush a strand of honey blonde hair from her forehead.
"I haven't forgotten, Henry", she whispered.

Thank you so much for your ongoing support and for the time you take to leave a review. I love all of them - I live for them. It's amazing. So thank you.

Here is another chapter. I tried for a lighter mood and I tried to show the change in their relationship after her breakdown and his discovery. I hope you like it.