Alone in the dark

My eyes slowly opened, hazy and full of sleep. It was still dark outside, that I could be sure, and i looked at the digital clock next to me. The red light glowed, showing it was a quarter past three in the morning. Sighing, I turned round, to find that the space in bed next to me was empty.
This surprised me, as, usually such a light sleeper, I hadn't felt James get up.
I put on my dressing gown and descended the spiraling staircase which lead into the living room. The door to the kitchen, which was just off the living room, was closed, but there was a glow of yellow light under it.
I crossed the room, and opened the door, to find James sat at the kitchen table, his back to me.
On the table was a tumbler, a quarter full with what looked like whisky.
I walked towards him, and over his shoulder I saw he was holding a picture, framed with a homemade shell frame, like something a child would make in nursery.
In the frame, was a picture of our daughter, Imogen. Today was her birthday, that I knew well and she would have been 5years old.
However, she would never get to see that day. 6 months earlier she had died of meningitus. She was our only child, and losing her was the worst pain either of us had ever felt. Life was slowly gettin back to normal, but the pain that had been there ever since she had been hospitalised had never gone.
I walked closer to James, and bent down, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, so my hands hung at his chest level. He reached a hand up and held onto my arm.
'What are you doing up so late?' I asked, kissing his cheek, and tracing the lines of my daughters face on the picture.
I felt his shoulders shrug beneath me. 'I woke up, and went to check to see if she was sleeping. But she wasnt there...i forgot'his voice shaking slightly, as if he were on the verge of tears.
I hugged him tighter, staring at the picture for what felt like hours.
I felt him move beneath me, turning to face me. He lifted one of my hands to his mouth and kissed it, before standing up.
'Come on,' he whispered,'Lets go back to bed.'
And he lead me back upstairs, switching the light in the kitchen off before he did, the picture and the tumbler left lying on the kitchen table, alone in the dark.1