The months had not been easy, but they had been healing. Time heals all was a very apt comment, but not one you fully understood until you had to give someone all the time in the world to do their own healing. It was painfully slow, frustrating in more than one manner of the word, but it was essential to the survival of a relationship.
Marcus had given Hathor everything he could to heal, he'd found out about her favourite things, brought home comforts, made sure the piano was tuned for her to play. He'd made sure she ate, and had the servants tend to her general needs when he was not there.
Nothing, there was nothing he hadn't done for the witch.
Today was one of the days that Marcus had left Hathor in the capable hands of their servants so that he could get on with some of the work he'd been delaying after one of their many short trips away. He'd been cooped up for hours, with only the House Elves attending him for lunch and drinks. The paperwork was being sorted, deals tended to, and other menial information dealt with.
It was endless, but necessary.
The knock at the door brought Marcus' eyes up from his paper to the door before the voice behind it spoke up. A small smile touched his lips upon hearing his wife's voice, but it was gone only a moment later as he moved his paperwork from one pile to another.
"Come in, Hathor." Marcus replied to her words, though his eyes were back on his paperwork. Attention, she could have, and she knew that by now. But when he was working... he disliked being disturbed. So, whatever Hathor wanted, he hoped beyond anything in the world that it was not something trivial.