Gemotions

The scent of burnt toast hung in the air, a testament to her carelessness. He'd been closeted in the spare bedroom for nearly an hour, and she'd forgotten all about breakfast. The bread lay blackened and forgotten.

She sighed, the sound barely audible. Dust motes danced in the morning sunbeams, illuminating the emptiness of the apartment. She didn't even go check on him.

Later, as she threw the toast in the trash, she thought of calling him. But she decided against it, instead heading into the bedroom to get dressed for work. He would come out when he was ready.