When you are gone

She lies still, listening to him clattering about in the kitchen downstairs. He got up earlier and left the bedroom without uttering a single word to her. Normally he would lean over to her side and kiss her gently to wake her. But this time was different. Yvonne sits up and swings her legs off the bed. Oh, well, she probably has to go to him and make him talk to her.

He gets like this sometimes, not talking. Especially when he's mad at her. But it's relatively easy to sway him, she knows. He loves her too much to be angry for too long. The only problem is, she has no idea what she'd done this time. The last time he was this upset, was when she had a fender-bender with his brand new 1 series BMW. God, was he mad! Granted, it was a little more than a fender-bender. The front of the car looked like a concertina. He refused to speak to her for two whole days, but he eventually came around. It took her a fabulous dinner and some great wine and the promise of some good times in the bedroom to make him forgive her. But forgive her, he did.
She stands in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, arms folded. "Good morning, babe."
He keeps his back towards her, showing no sign that he heard her. He's pouring himself coffee and she notices there's no cup out for her. Strange, no matter how bad their rows get, he always made coffee for her too.
She takes a deep breath and makes her way over to him, hand outstretched. Before she can caress his back, he moves away, eyes cast down.
"Brad?" She steps in front of him and wills him to look at her. He lifts his head and what she sees in his eyes shocks her. She has never seen him so sad.
"Brad?" she says again. He picks up his cup and ambles into the living room. He sits down and sighs, looks out at the beautiful garden. He looks so crestfallen. Yvonne realises she has to make amends before he leaves for the office. She sits down next to him, angling her body so that she faces him.
"Please talk to me. What have I done to deserve this silent treatment. Please tell me how to make it right."
He continues to stare out of the wide window. She covers his hand with hers. He looks down and curls his fingers, forcing her to lift her hand away. Her eyes are stinging with impending tears.
"Brad, please. Don't make me beg like this. I..." His head snaps up as the telephone rings.
"Hello," he says into the mouthpiece."Hi, yes. No, it's no problem. You are not intruding, Belinda."
Belinda? Who the hell is Belinda?
"Yes, yes. I'm fine...I'll be fine. Dinner sounds good. It might be a good idea for me to get out of this house for a while."
He listens for a while, "Sure, looking forward to it. Bye." And then rings off.
He stays next to the telephone and stares into nothingness for a few moments. He goes upstairs and Yvonne follows him.
"Brad? Who was that? And why are you having dinner with her?"
He enters the bedroom and picks up a photograph on the bedside table. It is the two of them on their honeymoon, smiling, deliriously happy.
Brad strokes the picture. "Yvonne, I miss you so much."
"I miss you too, darling. But I'm right here. Let's talk,please." She stands close to him, reaching up to touch his face.
"It will take me a long time to get over you and I'll always love you. But I need to get on with my life..."
"...get on with your life? What is...."
"...I know that's what you would have wanted. Besides, I'm sure you'd agree. I need a companion. You've been dead for nearly two years now and I still can't believe that you're gone..."
Yvonne looks up at Brad and then over to the body length mirror. Only Brad is reflected back at her.