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Christine slipped out of her lacy white dressing gown and slid into bed beside her husband. The sound of the rustling sheets and the creaking bedsprings almost seemed loud in stark contrast to the silence of the room, the only other noise coming from her husband’s congested breathing.
He had been sick for a few days now with a rather unfortunate case of scarlet fever, which Christine was thankful she’d already had in her childhood; she wouldn’t have been able to care for him otherwise. She’d spent each day right by his side, doing her best to nurse him back to health. It pained her to have to watch him in such discomfort, but, she reminded herself, at least he didn’t get sick very often.
The worst part about this particular illness, though, were her husband’s fever-induced nightmares. His nightmares were bad on a good day, but he didn’t wake up screaming every time like he did whenever a fever was added to the mix. Every night for the past few nights—and even a few times during the day when he’d been napping—her husband woke up in a fit of distress. Of course, Christine was always right there to hold him and comfort him, assuring him that everything was alright and that he was safe.
Tonight was no different.
Christine hadn’t been in bed for very long when she felt her husband begin to toss and turn. She hoped that perhaps, just this once, he would manage to sleep through it and get the rest his body so desperately needed, but when she heard a whimper and a pitiful “No” slip out of him, she knew that that would not be the case.
“Please, no,” Erik seemed to beg in his sleep, making his wife sigh quietly.
She reached over to run her hand up and down his arm in a soothing gesture, just as she did every night, only to pull her hand away when he flinched at her touch and whimpered again.
“No, stop hurting me, please!” Erik cried as he turned to bury his face in his pillow, one arm coming up to protectively cover his head.
“Oh, my love,” Christine whispered, sighing quietly to herself. After a moment more of hearing her husband’s distressed whimpers and cries, she reached over and gently shook him in an attempt to pull him out of the nightmare. “Erik, wake up. It’s just a bad dream, love, wake up.” She kept shaking him until she finally saw his eyes suddenly open.
Erik let out a gasp before he reached up to shield his face, whimpering pitifully. “No, don’t hurt me, please,” he begged.
“Erik, my darling, it’s just me. It’s Christine,” his wife said softly, moving her hand to gently rub his back. “Look at me, my love. You’re okay.”
Slowly, Erik lowered his shaking hands from his face and looked up at her with tear-filled eyes. “But- but the gypsy fair—I was there, and he was hitting me because I was bad…” he stammered, his voice hoarse from a sore throat. He glanced frightfully around the room for a moment before his gaze returned to his wife, and he whispered, “It was just a dream?”
Christine’s heart broke at seeing her husband’s fear. She always hated whenever such traumatic memories were recalled to his mind, and she hated even more that there was nothing she could do to prevent it from happening. “Yes, you were only having a bad dream, my darling,” she assured, gently brushing a piece of his hair out of his face. “I promise, everything is perfectly alright now. Don’t be afraid, you're okay.” She ran her fingers delicately through his hair, moving her other hand to cup his cheek. They stayed that way for awhile, her doing her best to sooth him, until she felt him relax slightly. Eventually, she pulled him into her arms and began rubbing his back with one hand. “Are you feeling a little better?” she whispered.
“I suppose,” Erik replied quietly, letting out a sigh as he curled himself around her, simply taking comfort in her touch and having her close. “I just want this ridiculous illness to go away.”
“I know you do, and I want that too,” Christine replied, leaning her cheek against his forehead as he rested his head against her shoulder. “I promise, I’m going to make sure you get better as soon as possible.”
“Thank you,” Erik whispered, managing to give her a small smile. “I don’t deserve you, my Christine. You’re far too good to me.”
“Don’t be silly, my darling. You’re a good person, and I’m a very fortunate woman to have found you,” replied Christine as she gave her husband a gentle squeeze.
“It is I who am the fortunate one, my dear,” Erik replied. He turned his head to cough briefly before settling back on her shoulder. “I’m not anywhere near worthy of your love, but you give it freely regardless. It takes a special person to love a monster like me.”
Christine sighed. “Nonsense. What have I told you about calling yourself a monster?”
“To not, I know,” Erik replied, shaking his head. “But Christine, I’ve done some very terrible, unspeakable things in my lifetime. You don’t even know everything, I’m afraid.”
“Then tell me, my darling. Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway,” Christine whispered, turning to rest her forehead against his. “The point is, Erik, that you did those things, but you don’t do them. Not anymore. You’ve changed, and that’s one of the very many reasons that I love you.”
“Thank you, my beautiful Christine,” Erik said quietly, smiling slightly when he felt her reach up to wipe a stray tear from his cheek. “I promise that I will keep doing my best and keep trying to make myself worthy of even a fraction of your affection.”
Smiling, Christine reached over to grasp one of his cold hands in her own warmer, smaller hand. “You already are, I assure you.”