Daff had busied herself with putting the bookmark back in the exact same spot it had come from, watching him out of the corner of her eye. Baffled by his choice of seat, she tried to school her features into something neutral. She was just so tired, it was hard to pretend when she felt exhausted in every sense of the word. Not sleeping, feeling like a prisoner in her own house, feeling like her marriage was crumbling, she had no distractions and couldn't figure out how to make it better.

She didn't miss the look on his face, or the way he ran his hand through his hair, exasperated maybe, and she sank back a little into the cushion, wondering what she had done now. She worried her bottom lip, mostly to keep it from trembling; her brows furrowed, because she didn't know why he was apologizing. Setting the book aside, back on the table, she noticed the shake in her hands and she quickly put them back into her lap, twisting her fingers into the blanket to hide it. As what he said started to sink in, Daff felt the tears again, and she blinked them back.

"Me too," she managed, barely above a whisper, not daring to trust her voice, peeking over at him uncertainly. Merlin did she ever. This wasn't how their first married Christmas was supposed to go. Their only one just the two of them. Next year they'd have a little one probably close to walking and it was almost impossible to picture right now. Missing out on her family celebration had been bad enough, but followed up with a silent morning of continuing to tiptoe around one another today felt unbearable. These thoughts had crossed her mind all month, but she hadn't known what to do with them. Broaching hard conversations felt like crossing an ocean lately.

Still, if they both wanted something better than this, maybe they could make it happen. Daff looked over at him more directly, expression soft and a little hopeful. "I miss you." She admitted. Occupying the same space was not the same as sharing it, not at all.