Broken Glass

Red Wine

   The constant low chatter and clinking of glasses faded into the background as Emily Scott stared across the table.  She felt the burning in her eyes and forced herself to blink.

"I'm sorry?" she asked, hearing her voice rise against her will. 

     She flinched and swallowed heavily. Emily folded her hands together and the separated them into fists. Sighing heavily she folded them again before deciding on grasping the hem of her sweater in her lap. 

"I don't understand what I did wrong" she said 

At this Allen reached out to her. Placing his hand on her cheek. She scrunched her face and fought the urge to melt into the comforting warmth. 

"Nothing, you've done nothing wrong" His voice soft and warm. 

"Then why-" She choked out

He simply looked out at her, eyes sad. 

Emily ducked her her head "Okay" 

"Okay?" he asked

She stood, gathering her coat and purse "Right, okay" 

    Emily turned swiftly on her heels, head head high until she left the building and made it out onto the street. The door opened and a burst of cold hair met her face. Dancing with the teardrops resting there. She walked for the sake of walking. Busses honked in harmony with the cars fighting for every inch of possible movement. In her stillness the world rebelled. A sharp woman done up with severe walked by on her cellphone, roughly bumping into her shoulder and only sparing her a dirty look as she walked on. Emily wrapped her coat tighter around herself.

       Allen sat back in his seat and watched her leave. He took his napkin from his lap and placed it  in a heap on the table. The waitress came back with a sympathetic look on her face and handed him the bill. 

"Take your time" She said

He spared himself a small smile and shook his head. At least her red wine hadn't been poured over his white dress shirt. The dry cleaning bill would've been horrendous. 

    Emily made it back to their- no her- his- apartment. Who's it was didn't matter at this point, she only hoped that he would think twice before showing up. She dumped the keys into the dish, hearing the familiar clink of home and the clack clack clack of the dog's nails on the hardwood. Not bothering to turn out the light she kicked off her shoes and walked to the bedroom. She crawled into bed burrying herself in the comforter. Her throat tightened as the memory of Allen tripping over her shoes. He'd give her this look and then chase her around the apartment before literally throwing her onto the bed. They'd collapse together a tangled, sweaty  mess. She swallowed, feeling the warmth of Cookie curled up at her back. But slowly the games had stopped and instead of it being washed away it festered like an ugly wound. The fighting started. He would shout about the shoes. Raised voice bringing the neighbors. She'd stopped with the shoes. Other problems showed. He never fully closed the toothpaste. She left her books out on the coffee table. Back and fourth it went. 

      She swiped angrily at the tears as they fell. They were going to go to therapy. It was going to be fine. She moved all the way to New York for him and this is the thanks that she gets. Emily laughed. Laughed and laughed until she couldn't breathe. Ugly gasping laughs that roll through her nose. Allen had said he loved her laugh. She wondered when they had stopped laughing. Her heart clenched at that. Were they really that lost? Turning over she ran her fingers through Cookie's soft white fur and buried her face in her neck. 

     The door opened and footsteps entered the room. A line of tension ran up her back.

"Em?" he called "You in here?" 

Allen walked to the bedroom and stood in the doorway. 

"Emily" he said, voice rolling in soft waves. 

She sat up and put her face in her hands, "Allen" 

   There was a tense moment without sound or movement. The dog stretched, mouth open in a yawn, before meandering out of the room. Emily slipped out from under the covers. Cringing even before her barefoot hit the cold floor. 

    This is the problem with storming out when you live together. There is nowhere to run to that they can't follow. Finally she got up and walked over to the linen closet and pulled out the spare sheets. 

"I'll set up the couch for you" She sighed. 

Allen visibly flinched at that "Its my apartment" face screwed up "I'll take the bed" 

Emily pushed the sheet into his chest "Your apartment?" she said, voice low

"Yes" he said, holding the sheets out for her to take. 

Emily Scott refused to take them.

She pointed to herself "I picked the sheets, I picked the bed, and I picked the apartment" 

   She paused a moment to take a breath holding her hand up when it looked as if Allen felt like interrupting. 

Hissing through her teeth "What makes you think it's yours ?" 

"Well I did ask you to move out" he said

   She put one hand on her hip and her other pinched the bridge of her nose. How was she supposed to respond to that. Her stomach hurt. In that confusing itchy internal way. If she had done nothing wrong then why did she feel like this. Then she got angry.

  She turned around to face him once more, feeling herself balancing on her toes as if to launch herself at him.  

"You're the one to ask me to move in with you" she said

He simply looked at her "And I'm rescinding my invitation" 

" I should have just stayed home!" she said, voice raising and breaking at the end

She pushed him out of the room, shutting and locking the door. 

"Emily Rose Scott, you open this door"  his fist hitting with every word 

She flinched with each bang. What would the neighbors think? This had to stop. Emily walked over to the door and took a breath before calling out for Allen to stop. The banging ended but not the anger.  

"I've moved away from everyone just for you" she said, hand on the doorknob. 

"And I've told you many times that I appreciate that" he said , pounding on the door again.

She dropped her hand "No" she said " You haven't" 

    That put a stop to the whole thing. The knocking stopped for good. She heard his footsteps retreating. Emily choked a laugh at that. So that was it. Not even a sorry. After everything they have been through, all she had done. He could accept that he was wrong. She gave up on them in that moment. Crying but she was done being sad. That was tomorrow's problem.

   Just as she was about to crawl into bed she heard a scratch at the door. She deflated. They should've never gotten a dog. Just another heart to be broken.