Chapter 20

A throbbing pain was mercilessly hammering against Henry's temples the moment he woke up. Groaning loudly, he rolled to the other side of his bed. This movement sparked another wave of pain that threatened to split his skull in pieces, on top of it turning his already nervous stomach.
When Henry opened his eyes, both his bed and bedroom began spinning at a furious pace.

With another groan, he buried his face deeply in the pillow and closed his eyes to stop the merry-go-round in his head. Henry remained motionless in this position until the dizziness and the stars that were dancing in his field of view had subsided. The raging headaches and the nausea, however, remained.
"Dammit," he mumbled with a hoarse voice, wishing for death to claim him right now.

It had been a long time since he had woken up with a hangover of this magnitude and for a moment he couldn't even remember what had happened last night.
But then the memory of the events that had led to his miserable state struck him like lightning.
Richard had happened!
Richard, the man who loved his wife and whom he had therefore sandbagged right in front of everyone.

Everything that had happened afterwards was merely a fogged up uncertainty in his addled brain.
The only thing that came to Henry's mind was Catherine and the way she had looked up at him with horror and disappointment written all over her beautiful face.

The mere remembrance of her gaze caused him even more agony.
Her horror at his depravation had been so obvious that he had felt like the most horrible person on earth. Well, most likely he was the most horrible person.

Henry stayed in that position, tormented by pain and shame for several, seemingly endless minutes, then he plucked up his courage and opened his eyes once again, blinking carefully. Just like before, everything turned around him, albeit at a slower pace. With narrowed eyes he concentrated on his breathing and gradually the merry-go-round of horror came to a halt.

And while he stared into nothingness with glassy, bloodshot eyes, more fragments of his memories came to light.
Sebastian had brought him home and down in the hall he had run into Catherine of all people in all his drunken, inarticulate splendor.
And he remembered the relief he had felt upon realizing that she had returned to their shared house and not slipped into Richard's waiting arms instead.

Henry carefully turned his head to one side and discovered two pills besides a glass of water on his bedside table. Pain relievers! Bash must have placed them there in wise precaution.
"Good kid," he muttered and rolled over towards his bedside table, moaning in agony by doing so. Once he could reach them, he swallowed the pills and flushed them down with plenty of water.

But only after a cold shower did Henry feel fit enough to leave his bedroom and face reality, in his case - his family. Quietly, as not to draw too much attention, he sneaked down the stairs. Then he stopped in the hallway to listen carefully. But he was only greeted by silence.

Only from a distance did he hear a muffled voice. Catherine's voice.
To avoid an initial confrontation, Henry chose to flee in the opposite direction from where her voice was coming from. If he wasn't mistaken, Catherine was on the terrace, doing a call. So he went to the kitchen like a sleepwalker and started preparing some extra strong coffee.

Before he could put the cup to his lips however, the door was pushed open powerfully. Henry didn't even have to look up to know who was now standing on the threshold between dining room and kitchen, threatening to stab him with a murderous glare.
"Don't say anything," he asked his wife and sipped at the coffee that burned his throat.
"To be honest, there's nothing left to say anyway." Catherine sounded more disappointed than angry and her reaction caused Henry to finally raise his eyes and look at her.

"I'm sorry, Kitten," he meekly mumbled and resisted the urge to squirm like a worm under her piercing gaze.
"What exactly are you sorry for?" The same harshness with which Catherine had spoken to him yesterday had returned to her voice and induced Henry to swallow hard.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you."
"Embarrass me? Do you seriously believe that this is your biggest problem after your behaviour last night?" Catherine didn't even try to hide her anger from him. He actually couldn't blame her.
"No, but truth be told – I care about you and your feelings most. So it doesn't matter what others might think about last night. But the thought that you and Richard ... I just saw red."

"Please spare me. For years you didn't care about how and with whom I spend my time and suddenly you act like a jealous husband? You should apologize to Richard, not to me."
Catherine didn't give him another chance to reply, for she turned on her heel and left the kitchen. Not without forcefully closing the door.

In resignation Henry slumped against the kitchen counter and stared at the closed door, which more than clearly symbolized that he had unwillingly destroyed the frail seedling of their reforming relationship with his ill-considered and jealous behavior.

And he didn't know how to fix things between them.
One thing, however, he knew.
He couldn't lose his wife. Not again.

During the next few days he tried hard to smooth things out. Not an easy task, since not only Catherine, but the majority of his staff and family had witnessed his outbreak of violence and the knowing glances they now threw his way made it impossible to spread the cloak of forgetfulness over what had happened.

Both his wife and their sons avoided him. Only his little girl and Sebastian had a word with him from time to time.

Nevertheless, he did not let himself be discouraged by her distance. He understood Catherine's anger and had been willing to give her some time to cool down.
But after a week had passed, Henry found himself at the other side of her office door to make another attempt at reconciliation, baring her favorite dish from the Deli downstaris as a peace-offering. Since the anteroom was unoccupied, Henry entered after a short knock.

"Henry, what do you want?" Catherine, who was wearing an elegant navy-blue costume with a white silk blouse that day, rose at his sight and scrutinized him.A grim and unforgiving expression lay on her beautiful face.
"I'm here to have lunch with you," he announced cheerfully and placed the food boxes on her desk. His words sounded more cheerful than he actually felt.

"This isn't a good time. I already have a lunch appointment and afterwards an afternoon off." His wife circled her desk and built herself up right in front of him. Since Catherine was wearing high-heeled shoes, they were nearly of the same height and thus he met her gaze at eye level.
"Catherine, I just want...", he didn't get a chance to finish his sentence.
"I don't care what you want. I for my part don't want to be late for my appointment," she interrupted him brusquely.

But before she could turn away, Henry grabbed her arm to stop her.
"Don't do that" he muttered insistently, forcing Catherine to keep on looking at him.
"What?" she hissed and deep in his heart Henry was happy that he wasn't hearing even the tiniest hint of fear in her voice but rather anger.
"Don't run from me. Not again. Can't you see how hard I try?"
"Not everything is about you, Henry." With a jerk Catherine broke free from him. Then she grabbed her handbag and literally stormed out of her office.

Henry - who was just standing in the middle of the room in a state of utter dumbfounding – slowly pulled himself out of his rigidity and violently threw the food boxes into Catherine's waste-paper basket.
"Damn it," he cursed when the image of Catherine meeting up with Richard started to appear before his inner eye. "That stupid asshole!"

Then he stormed out of Catherine's office as well.

I'm sooo sorry that it took me so long to post an update. I've had some busy weeks.
I hope you like it, even thought Cathry is in kind of a struggle right now.

Many many thanks for your kind reviews!