“Keep your flowers, they don’t mean a thing to me”

“You mean the world to me,”

“Did you tell that to her?!”

“Don’t be absurd,”

“How else can I be? You have betrayed me, hated me, and lied to me. And now you want to give me…flowers?” Her voice shook.

“I love you”

“Leave this house”

“You don’t want to do this”

“I know exactly what I want. And I want you gone”

He turned and passed slowly through the open door and turned slowly to look back at her, his eyes a glassy deception she just couldn’t ignore.
His flowers sat there… just sat there on the end table… laughing at her. But she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of them. In some humiliating way she needed them there, without their condescending reminders he would be gone.
So now she can say she kept his flowers, they meant something to her.