He stared out the window, the cold, frosty morning greeted him, mirroring the atmosphere inside his home.

Footsteps sounded behind him along with the sound of wheels running along the wooden floorboards.

They almost sounded like they were beginning to scrape the wood, much like his heart.

It suddenly stopped and he knew they were waiting for him.

Waiting, willing him to turn around and look.

He sighed heavily before his shoulders slumped in defeat and he slowly turned around to face her.

She stood there behind her suitcase, her hands folded in front of her as she bit her lip nervously.

Waiting.

It was something she did when she was scared.

Once upon a time, that same little nervous habit would have been endearing and had him gathering her up in his arms to kiss away her fears.

It would have invoked the emotions in his heart.

Now it invoked nothing.

They stood staring, neither of them saying anything, simply holding each other's gazes.

She had so much to say, wondering if her words could incite something that he used to feel.

He had nothing to say, knowing that the gap between them was too wide to fill.

In the moment of mutual silence, she remembered how they used to be.

Romantic gestures he did for her.

Little surprises he gave her.

The letters he penned and sent to her when he was unable to be there.

And she threw it all away one stupid night.

In that moment of mutual silence, he remembered what he had seen.

Wine glasses on the coffee table.

A trail of clothing leading to their bedroom.

Two bodies entwined.

She tried to pass it off as a moment of weakness, of him not being around.

How long?

She begged and pleaded, apologised and that it would never happen again.

How many?

She had recoiled in shock at his question, wondering how he could ask such a thing.

He had recoiled in disgust, knowing he would never look at her the same way again.

She sighed as a tear rolled down her cheek, somehow feeling that they were both to blame, but she had sealed their fate.

He sighed as he looked her straight in the eye, knowing he had been as honest as he could about what she was getting into with him.

His life.

She had sealed their fate.

He could not look beyond what he had seen, even though he had tried.

She knew he had tried.

They used to be so happy, so together, so in love.

Everything was easy, effortless, carefree.

Then it became so hard, so difficult, so guilty.

Everything became angry, spiteful, hurtful.

We're not who we used to be.

They both knew they would never be.

His arms moved to cross themselves over his chest, trying to push the wall he'd built up even higher between them.

And she could see it rise.

And there was nothing she could do about it.

She gripped the handle of her suitcase and sighed yet again, shaking her head.

At the situation, at the hurt, at the goodbye.

She walked towards the door, throwing her keys onto the kitchen table as she passed it.

The clattering noise echoed throughout the apartment, almost making him jump.

He watched as she finally opened the door, and slowly walked out, casting one last glance over her shoulder at him.

A sad smile on her face.

He looked away, unable to watch any longer.

The sound of the door closed behind her and his chest suddenly felt tight, painful.

Trying to remember how it felt to have a heartbeat.