“So what now?” she asked him, looking down at the carpet as she spoke. When she finished, however, she looked up at him, where he sat in the other couch across from her, sitting there. His eyes were on the carpet as well, but he felt her eyes on him when she finished speaking, and he looked up and met her eyes when he spoke.
”’Honestly? I don’t really know.”
She sighed, then nodded. It was a sad business, this.
It had been made final just the night before, after a really nasty argument.
“You know what?” she had screamed at him. “Why don’t you just leave?”
He, angry right back at her, shouted, “Fine!”
There was some more arguing, some more shouting, and finally he had ended up sleeping on the couch and she had ended up slamming the bedroom door behind her.
Then, earlier that morning, when they had both woken up and were talking again (not shouting), he’d said, “So, we’re taking a break then?”
And she’d said, sadly, gently, “I don’t think a ‘break’ is enough.”