Leaving occupies the person who leaves, with transport, arrangements, and a new place asking for attention. Staying has no such occupation. You walk back into the same room and it has become a different room, arranged around an absence that was not there an hour ago. One of you is busy and one of you has time and a chair that is now empty.

If you are the one remaining, expect the first evening to be the sharpest and put something small into it. And if you are the one going, a message when you arrive costs a minute and lands in a quiet house.