Cathy's eyes were on him again when he returned, and again she found herself at a loss for something meaningful to say. Awkward. Despite the reassurances he gave, reassurances she did believe, there was still a clutching in her chest that told her something still wasn't right.
His walls were back up. Erected again due to this person from his past, and she didn't have the first idea as to how to lower them again. The sigh he gave confirmed it, told her that there was more weighing on Lindsey's mind than he care to let on.
"This is about you, more than me," she told him, edging over to where he sat, hands seeking out the tension in his shoulders. She knew his trouble spots well, how to soothe the physical evidence of a trying day, at least. A stillness came over her as she truly considered the question, head resting against his back for a moment, a soft kiss placed to his shoulderblade.
"What are you thinking?" The request was a vulnerable one, genuine in lieu of any kind of nag. Her husband was a mystery to her sometimes, and while it was one of the things she loved about him, in times like this it merely gave her frustration. In stark contrast, Cathy was very much an open book. At current, an open book who wanted nothing more than to be there for the person she loved more than the world, if he would only let her.