[Her hands slowly, slowly unfurl from the hem of her shirt, and she slumps slightly forward. After a moment's silence, she crosses the room and sits beside him, after which another long silence stretches out between them. She honestly doesn't know what to say, and she feels even more guilty for yelling at him now.
After a moment, she reaches up and disengages one of his hands from his book, and if he lets her, she'll hold onto it. If she can't speak, at least she can offer him physical comfort. A sign that she's here, and at least for now, she's not leaving.]