I stood up.
"Mark!" Her voice pitched up, a mix of confusion and annoyance. "What are you doing?"
I looked down at her. She looked small, suddenly.
"You asked me to give you a reason to stay with me," I said, my voice loud enough for the tables nearby to hear, but calm enough to show zero emotion. "And I realized something."
"What?" she snapped.
"Can you give me one reason to stay with you?"
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She was stunned; the question hadn't even occurred to her.
"I offer loyalty, stability, and respect," I said, buttoning my suit jacket. "You offer confusion, comparison, and an ex-boyfriend you're texting under the table. I'm not competing for a job I already have, Vanessa. And I'm certainly not competing for a position that's already filled."
"You can't just leave!" she hissed, her face turning red as she noticed people looking. "You can't leave me here with the bill!"
"I paid my half," I said. "You wanted independence and excitement. Paying for your own $80 bottle of wine is pretty exciting. Call Dylan. Maybe he'll pick up the tab."
I turned around and walked toward the exit.
"Mark!" she shrieked. "If you walk out that door, we are done! Do you hear me? Done!"
I didn't look back. I pushed through the heavy glass doors and stepped out into the cool night air. I checked my pulse; it was slow, steady. I took my phone out of my pocket, opened her contact, and hesitated. Blocking her now would be too easy; it would look like I was hurt. I didn't want to look hurt. I wanted to look indifferent.
I put the phone back in my pocket and hailed a cab. I was done, but I had a feeling she was just getting started.
The silence lasted exactly twenty minutes. That was how long it took for her to realize I wasn't waiting outside the restaurant and that I wasn't coming back to pay the rest of the bill.
I was back at my apartment, calmly folding her clothes into a cardboard box I'd grabbed from the recycling bin, when my phone started vibrating against the coffee table. It wasn't a call; it was a barrage of texts.