The weight of it all. The stuff in the garage. The stuff in storage. The stuff said and unsaid. All of it.
What does that mean? You have to give me more than that. Why won’t you talk to me?
What’s the point?
You ignore me. You leave when I get home. You stay out until all hours. It feels like you’re punishing me.
Maybe I should get an apartment.
What? We can’t afford that.
I know. I’ll always love you, but I don’t think this is reconcilable.
Based on what? What happened? Help me understand.
Sorry, I just need more space. She walks out the front door towards the car.
