She can't bring herself to get up.

Everything feels so cold to the point of numbness; he's shut her out so severely it's like he doesn't even see her anymore.

She tries to hold back the tears, but they ultimately break free as they have an immeasurable amount of times over this past month.

She wishes he would acknowledge that he still cares; or, though it would break her heart, she wishes he would just move on.

The pain she's caused is suffocating him; it's killing him.

She needs him to break the surface of his ocean of torment, one way or another.

And if that means he has to let her go, she will have to let him.

She hears shuffling and turns to see him in his work clothes, trying and failing to tame his unruly hair.

She sadly smiles as she sees his perfectly tousled hair hanging down on his forehead, remembering how it feels to run her fingers through it while he lays his head in her lap.

He moves to the door, grabbing his car keys before turning to see a picture of them hanging on the wall.

She sees his breath halt in his chest for a moment, his fingers gently coming up to caress the surface of the picture.

"I hope you know that I do still love you," he says softly as his eyes fill with tears. "How could I not?"

With that, he leaves the house, locking the door behind him.