More than anything, I just wanted him to say “OK, ma cherie, we will make it work.” Instead, he told me, “Tu travailles trop et ne bois pas assez.” You work too much, and drink too little.
So, I left.
I packed up my golightlys, books, and the cat he gave me in a moment of thoughtfulness, and I left.
“I work,” I said, as I slammed the door, “So you can have your wine.”
“J’ai deux amours!” He pleaded after me. I have two loves.
“That’s our problem.” I whispered. “Choisis.”
He couldn’t choose.
So, I left.
I packed up my golightlys, books, and the cat he gave me in a moment of thoughtfulness, and I left.
The cat wanted to stay with him.