And The Silver Spoon
Marry me, you blurt out suddenly.
Frannys eyes go as wide as dinner plates. She blinks.
You try to convince her. You explain that you know its overdue, that she deserves a ring.
But she quickly lets you know how pissed off your proposal makes her.
She stares ahead distantly, making a decision. Your heart stops.
Wait, Fran, you say, trying to reason with her as she stands suddenly and makes her way for the door.
She tells you there wont be a tomorrow. You are hot on her heels as you ask her what she means.
She tells you shes done. You ask what shes done with.
She pauses in the doorway, deadpanning at you. You stare back desperately, but she doesnt budge.
Done being needed, she says. You watch her intently as she drapes her coat over the arm and steps onto the stoop.
The door slams. You stand in silence for a second, numb to whats just happened.
You tiredly stumble into the kitchen. The anniversary dinner Franny made for you both, the one you were supposed to make, is sitting on the counter in neat Tupperware containers, cold. A bouquet of flowers lies stem-up in the trash can.
Franny is gone. You are alone.