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Good Bye

“I can’t stand it anymore!” She slammed shut her suit case. The liquid crystals in her eyes broke and fell down her cheeks. I finally got the door open.
“We can work this out!” I said desperately. “You don’t have to leave.” I tried to embrace her. That ended painfully, with my knees together, eyes watering, and her hurrying around me. I ignored the pain and followed her out into the hall. I sprinted past her and blocked her way.
“Get out of my way!” She aimed another kick, but I caught her foot, and let go. She went around me, and started down the stairs. Her feet stomped down the stairs, making a clump clump sound. I thought the stairs might collapse.
“Amy! Please! Let me explain,” I pleaded. I didn’t want to lose her. She was everything to me.
“I don’t need an explanation!” she screamed from the bottom of the landing, turning to face up the stairs at me. Her face was red and damp, tears not held back for even a second. She was sobbing, breathing through her teeth, and her shoulders rose and fell rhythmically. “I saw what happened.” She turned, and I took the stairs three at a time.
“It wasn’t what it looked like!” I paused. Actually, it was, I thought to myself. “I’m sorry!”
“Sorry isn’t going to work this time.” She had exited the house already, her voice filtering in through the open window at the bottom of the stairway. I ran out the open door, and made it to her old Civic as she slipped into the driver’s seat. She started to close the door, but I grabbed it and held it open.
“Please… can we talk about this?” I was begging at this point.
“No, we can’t, Sean,” her voice was steady now, and she glared at me in the way that only she could. “I love you, Sean. But you obviously don’t love me back.” Her words struck me worse than a blow to the groin ever could. I stepped back from the door, and she pulled it shut.
The engine started, and she looked at me through the open window. “Good bye,” she said. She sped off, down my street, going at least 40 miles per hour at the end of it. A white Ford pick-up was flying through the intersection at the same time that she decided to run the red light.
More tears stained the pavement. These, however, weren’t Amy’s.