And The Silver Spoon
You snap that youre tired. Too tired to argue. You insist to leave the conversation until tomorrow, so long as she stitches you up now.
She scoffs. She stands very suddenly.
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, but she doesnt budge.
Done watching you care for no one but yourself, 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.