Possibly an apology.
What she got was me bending down and collecting my clothes.
I started with the jeans.
Then the shirts.
I removed the sweatshirt from the hydrangeas.
Melissa eventually retrieved the shoe from the flower bed and walked it over.
“Here.”
“Thanks.”
“Eric, I…”
“Don’t.”
She nodded.
That was enough.
I loaded everything into my trunk.
Then I went inside one final time.
Lauren had come downstairs.
She stood near the bottom of the staircase with her arms folded.
I walked past her into the office.
I took my work laptop.
Passport.
A folder containing insurance paperwork and several personal documents.
A charger.
My medication.
Lauren watched from the hallway.
“So you’re just leaving?”
I slid the folder into my bag.
“That’s usually what ‘get out’ means.”
“You know what I meant.”
I stopped.
“No.”
Her expression shifted slightly.
“I was angry.”
“You were very clear.”
“Eric.”
“I’m respecting your decision.”
That was not what she expected.
I walked toward the front door.
She followed.
For a moment I thought she might stop me.
Instead, pride won.
“Fine. Go.”
I looked at her.
“Good night, Lauren.”
Then I left.