Gordon awoke. It was still dark, but he could just make out the clock on the bedside table reading ten past two. He shifted slightly, fully expecting to feel the weight of his wife's head on his chest, but he didn't. He reached out and ran a hand over her side of the bed; it was empty, the sheets cold. Frowning, he rose, exited their bedroom and padded to the bathroom. That too was absent of his wife. He turned and came back the way he'd come down the corridor, but passed their bedroom and descended the stairs, being sure not to tread on the creaky step at the bottom. He glanced into the living room whose partially open curtains allowed the orange glow from the streetlights to diffuse inside, casting a faint light upon the objects, including his wife.
"Jill." He whispered, so as not to surprise her. However, he didn't succeed, and she jumped, spinning around to face him, shock written on her face for just a second, until her features relaxed upon seeing him. She flashed him the briefest and minutest of smiles, before turning back to gaze out the window. Her hands were placed on the windowsill, supporting her frame, as she leant close to the glass, mist forming upon it where her breath condensed.
Gordon quickly covered the floor between them until he was standing behind her. He hesitated a moment, unsure of what to do, until instinct, fueled by love took over, and he slid his arms around her waist. Relieved that she didn't pull away, he tightened his hold on her, and rested his chin on her shoulder. He tried to peer through the window, wondering if there was anything particularly interesting she was looking at, but all he could see was the reflection of the room and themselves; his head resting against his wife's pale, drawn one.
"Jill..." He murmured again, gently turning her in his arms, to which she again offered no resistance. Once she was facing him, he brought a hand up to her cheek, marveling at the softness of her skin as his stroked it lightly, though there were no tears to erase as there had been previously.
She released a slow sigh, her breath touching his neck in the lightest of caresses. "Sorry Gordon." She said, exhaling again as she did so, her posture slumping as if it had been the air that had been holding her up.
"Don't be." He said, trying to put as much sincerity as he could into those two words, knowing she was no doubt being incredibly hard on herself, like she always was. Whenever something happened at work, at home, or elsewhere, whether directly, or indirectly her fault, or sometimes not even her fault at all, she always berated herself. It sometimes took him days to make her release the guilt she was holding. But nothing this big had ever happened to her before. He couldn't begin to comprehend how she was feeling now. He had no idea how he could begin to help her, and he wouldn't be able to unless she talked to him. But he wasn't going to push her, not now anyway; it was too raw, she was too vulnerable, though if he so much as suggested as much to her, he would no doubt be sleeping on the settee for a week.
He smiled slightly as he contemplated telling her, just to see some of the fire come back into her. But he quickly decided against it, enjoying the feel of her in his arms.
He slowly backed up until the backs of his legs met the armchair, and he lowered himself down into it, pulling her with him onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her once she'd settled herself into a comfortable position. Her legs were curled up tightly, and her hand gripped his shoulder, whilst her head rested on his other one.
"I couldn't sleep." She said quietly, brokenly, and slightly tearfully, nestling herself closer to him.
He turned his head slightly and placed a soft kiss on her forehead whilst bringing a hand up to run through her long, tussled hair. "It's okay sweetheart... It's alright..."
