He straightens when the door opens, lips parting to speak but waiting to see if she's going to say something first.

When she walks away without a word his chest tightens on the inside.

Bravely moving forward he shuts the door behind himself with a quiet click and follows her. The scent of jasmine still clings to her skin and trails in her wake.

When she enters the kitchen he stops on the other side of the threshold, giving her space, trying to come up with something to say.

A long moment passes, and then another and finally he says, "Karen, I'm sorry."