To Heal A Lonely Heart

It's Getting Better

The next weeks were tense. I spent a lot of time alone brewing potions; Crevan wasn't allowed in here when I brewed the potions for his father, since they were poisonous and Crevan was a curious little boy. It was my safe place; still surrounded by the people I loved, but secluded enough to have some time to myself. And I needed that. Though Geralt and I still slept entangled at night, having to face him in daylight was different. Every time I looked at him, his eyes were filled with regret and pain, and when he looked at me like that, it was hard to not think about what had happened with the sorceress. So he kept his distance, taking care of our son while I worked.

Sure, he had sworn that it would not happen again, but we couldn't be certain about that. Her spell had still affected him after she let him go, so how could we know it wouldn't linger for longer?

To be completely honest, I would have liked if he had left for a few weeks, so I would have time to really think, but he wanted to stay. He said that figuring this out was more important. At least he didn't run and hide.

I was in my kitchen now, brewing the witcher's potions. For the first time in weeks, I felt a presence in the doorway behind my back and I wanted to turn and tell Crevan to go away, that it was dangerous for him to be in here right now, when the heavy set of feet started moving again. A few seconds later, strong arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me against a firm chest. Out of habit, I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against my husband's shoulder. I was enveloped in his earthy scent that made me feel more at home than these walls ever could.

"You don't have to do this," his deep voice rumbled through my ears, his chest vibrating against my back.

"I know," I sighed, "but it keeps me sane."

"Hmm." And then it was silent for a while. From outside we heard Crevan fighting some imaginary monster – or maybe just the chickens. Neither of us said a word. Then –

"I... I don't know what I can do," Geralt broke the silence, "To get this... to get this right."

I let out another deep sigh. "There is nothing you can do," I started. It caught Geralt by surprise. So much, that I couldn't finish before he loosened his grip around my waist and took a step backwards. But I quickly turned and gripped onto his forearms, pulling his hands back to rest on my hips. He looked at me, a mixture of confusion and sadness.

I shook my head a little. "It's up to me now. You've already done enough, apologized enough. I just... every time I look at you, you give me the same look – yeah, this one – and I... I have forgiven you, minne. But I feel you haven't forgiven yourself. Please, Geralt. You have to forgive yourself," I was begging now, a hesitant hand cupping his jaw – touching him still felt weird somehow, unfamiliar. "Because every time you look at me with regret written all over you, all I can see is what you showed me. And it... it makes it harder to move on."

He nuzzled into my touch, desperate for every little bit of affection I was able to show him. "My love, I have sworn to you I'd never hurt you, and now I did. So how can I not regret it when I see you suffering?"

"Just try, alright? Think about how lucky you are that I didn't throw you out," I chuckled, trying to cheer him up, but I meant it. He could count himself very lucky. I know that not every woman would let her husband stay if he had cheated on her, a spell involved or not.

"Very lucky indeed. But if I had been a little luckier, this wouldn't have happened at all."

"But it did, we can't change that now."

"Hmm." And a nod.

Slowly, I slid my hand from his face down his chest onto his back, my other hand coming up to hug his waist. Geralt's arms wrapped around me and I pressed myself against him, breathing him in. His scent – leather, grass, Roach and just a hint of my flowery soap – was home and I knew I couldn't live without it, not anymore.