Instantly, she buried her face in the clean creases of his shirt and threw her arms around his torso, holding on tight like a drowning person being thrown a lifeline. Dramatic as it was, Ophelia felt just like that at the moment. Her husband was there, and he was strong, and he was a piece of solid ground to hang onto after such a long time not knowing what to do with herself or her shattered home life. Maybe it was only for her own sanity, but in that moment she believed him entirely--- because he had to be telling the truth. He couldn't regress again after this or she wasn't sure what she'd do.
He couldn't do that to her, again.
She listened to Grayson's words through their low resonance in his chest and nodded her acceptance, forcing herself to calm down, gain control over herself. It wouldn't do to really start crying; this wasn't a moment she wanted to be awkward, as relieved as she was that it was happening at all. That wouldn't do.
Pulling back just enough to look up at him, pushed a forceful kiss on him in response. Being a man of few words as he was, she imagined he would understand what she meant.
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