“I grow wary of you.”
“You ‘grow wary’?” She exhaled a puff of air.
“What is this, Richard the Third?”
“No, but that is why I’m breaking up with you.”
She looked at him just underneath his collarbone without replying to his announcement for a while. Even the waiter–not the nosy type–who had just served the couple dinner spied at them through the glass front wall of the restaurant. The quiet knife-dangling between them had been all-too noticeable. The weather was still. They stood, not walked, on the sidewalk. Both of their bellies remained near-empty.
“You’re sure? You absolutely mean it?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Because…you’re bound to have something off about you since you want to be with me,” he said. He rolled a pebble on the ground back and forth with the bottom of his shoe.
Her mouth opened and stayed that way. Then her jaw moved finally. “I have no idea which one of us is insulted more by that statement.” She walked past him and kept walking.
“Where are you going?”
She was already too far to hear his question. He leaned against the building.
That’s really it? She’s just gonna go? he wondered.