You know how much I hate it when you do it, tossing your half smoked camel into the sink. This time you look me in the eye, challenging me to say something. I match your stare, I’ve nothing more to lose.
Like everything else, it’s a draw, we look away at the same time.
I light another cigarette and cross my arms, staring at nothing, taking everything in. I can feel it in you, the rage and hatred, the resentment, the tantrum-like insistence that it’s my fault.
The smoke fills the kitchen, the ghost of our regret, the ghost of what we were.
I offer you the pack, but you look away. The need gnaws at you, I could see it in your clenched fists, you need me to apologize, to shoulder the burden.
My silence breaks your will. You’re gone forever starting with the first step. One gulp, you finish your Jack, the glass shatters inches from my head. No reaction, you won’t get it from me. Just go.
With every breath after the door shuts behind you I feel your hate dissipate into the walls, disappearing.