His hand slid easily into hers. [I know that you're hurting,] he began. [I know it feels empty. I don't know why.]
Their hands moved together, palm to palm, and he noted the color she wore, recognized the shroud of grief wrapped around her. It was almost like looking in a mirror. [Empathy,] he said, by way of explanation. [One of those ones I can't do much about as far as stopping it.]
His eyes raised, looking to hers. "Do you want to tell me?"