Rain drummed steadily against the wide veranda roof. The storm had settled over the city hours earlier, leaving Sheffield wrapped in mist and the scent of wet earth.
Catherine stood at the railing with a mug of tea between her hands.
"I hadn't expected it to rain so much this week."
"It shouldn't have."
Erik stepped beside her.
"It must be a reaction to changing emotions"
She looked sideways.
"So this is my fault?"
"I prefer to think of it as impressive timing."
She smiled.
For several minutes neither of them spoke. They simply watched the rain sweep across the paddocks.
"It feels..."
Catherine searched for the right word.
"...quiet."
"It usually is."
"It has been a long time since I heard this silence."
Erik frowned slightly.
"What do you mean?"
"In New York there's always something. There's always sounds of traffic, people, construction work..."
She looked out over the fields again.
"Here..."
She took a slow breath.
"...it feels like the world isn't asking anything from me."
Erik rested his elbows on the railing.
"I wish you'd let yourself believe that more often."
She turned towards him.
"You make it sound easy."
"It isn't."
He smiled faintly.
"But I think you're allowed to stop carrying everything for five minutes."
A comfortable silence returned. Somewhere in the distance thunder rolled across the hills. Catherine laughed softly.
"What?"
"I've spent years believing success meant always moving."
She looked out at the rain.
"And somehow you've convinced me that standing still can be just as important."
Erik didn't answer immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was almost lost beneath the rain.
"I was hoping you'd discover that for yourself."
Erik stood behind her and pulled her into his arms. She leaned back comfortably. They remained there long after the tea had grown cold, watching the storm pass over Sheffield without either of them feeling the need to fill the silence.
