She rocked back and forth. Wood creaking against the stone floor was the only sound disturbing the peace of the room.
He didn't know what would happen next. He had always been the "dumpee," never the "dumper."
She had listened without saying a word, her expression difficult to read. When he finished she maintained her silence. Rocking gently, she gazed down at her hands where they rested on her lap. She seemed fascinated by her long delicate fingers.
He had been so sure of their love in the beginning. He thought she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen and he had been thrilled that she had agreed to move in with him when the lease on her apartment expired.
He had planned on marrying her. He had imagined children and a thirty year mortgage. But he had kept his mouth shut, biding his time. He had been reckless in the past, opening his mouth and his heart too soon. This time he had been determined to keep his feelings to himself. Otherwise generous and considerate , he had not said those fateful words, "I love you," and the engagement ring he had purchased three months after they met was still hidden away in his sock drawer.
He didn't know what went wrong. She used to be so excited when he walked through the door. She would jump up and throw her arms around him and give him a big kiss. She would ask about his day and tell him about hers. They would go out to dinner or just stay home, content to spend the evening together cuddled up on the couch watching TV. He loved the way her body would melt into his when he held her. She felt like home.
All that had changed over the last couple of years. Sometimes she barely looked up when he got home from work. Other times she would text him that she was spending the evening with friends. When he put his arms around her, she was unyielding, all her feminine softness hardened into resistance.
His doubts had been realized. She was not the woman for him.
She said something under her breath.
"What did you say? Did you say rubric?"
She repeated it.
"Cubic? Like cubic foot?"
"Cubic. Like cubic zirconium."
"Why are you saying cubic zirconium?" Their communication skills had fallen lately, but this was a new low.
She looked up and met his eyes with hers, all shields down. "I am calling you a cubic zirconium, because that's what you are. I thought you were a diamond, but you're not. If we had been real, if you had truly loved me, I would mourn your loss, maybe work hard to find you again, like a woman will when she has lost something genuine. But something fake, like a cubic zirconium? No. Not worth the effort."
She smiled as she got out of the chair and placed a last kiss on his cheek.
She walked toward the bedroom and didn't look back as she tossed the words over her shoulder.
"I'll be gone in the morning."
