Two weeks prior to that moment she sat on the couch, fiddling with discarded sunflower seed shells on the coffee table while he stood in the doorway gazing at her in his boyish way. Two weeks before she mentioned that it would be a good idea to take a break from them. That maybe if she wasn�t there every moment that he thought she should be he'd finally understand whether he cared for her or not. She understood that comfort was easy to come by, but standing up and really deciding whether living life and not just being overtaken by it would shatter any idea of comfort they may have fabricated.

And after she muttered I'm leaving he came to her as he had before, on his knees declaring this time it really would be different. Grabbing at her wrists he pushed his body against her legs to keep her from standing up. He firmly pressed her feet between his knees trying to meet her eyes, to get her to understand that he loves her. She balled her hands into fists trying unsuccessfully to free them from his firm grip. Biting her lip she prayed to hold back the tears so he wouldn�t know that all she wanted was to feel what it was that he said. She bored her eyes into her lap avoiding his attempts to meet them.

"You've said it before"

"I meant it then too, like I mean it now. God, why won't you just let go, why won't you just admit it's not worth it?"

"Because I think it is, I think we are. You're the one who insists on fighting it, you're the one who thinks it's not worth it. But I can think it's worth it for both of us, isn�t that enough?"

The tears came then, and he thought they meant yes. She knew and she was just to weak and tired to say no. Looking at him she saw the lines around his eyes and mouth, the tired look of desperation in his eyes that she had grown accustom to. He was always searching for something he'd never find and had convinced himself over the years that he had found the biggest part of the puzzle in her. To him it was simple, hold on to this piece and the rest will come. But she didn�t see it that way. She didn�t want to be the biggest part of his mission.

He let go of her wrists and started running his hands up and down her thighs. She could feel him growing hard against her legs and closed her eyes tightly against the idea of having to go to bed with him. She realized that he had cut off the circulation to her hands and felt hot pins of pain running through her fingers. His hands made their way up to her hips fitting snuggly around them. She let out a raspy sigh then swallowed hard.

"Don't, please don�t."

His grip loosened a bit. He started playing his thumbs lightly over her hips keeping his hand where they lay. Leaning forward he rested the top of his head against her stomach sighing.

"Is it really that awful? Do you really dislike me that much? Do I really make you that unhappy?"

"No�I�" the words just fell out of her mouth, she stopped herself before saying more.

"No? Really, no? Look at me and tell me, c'mon look at me."

Slowly she met his stare and everything he wanted to know was in her eyes. His hands slid off her hips and he pushed against the couch to stand up.

"Right, I got it." He sighed heavily placing his hands on his hips. She thought for a moment, if he wasn�t so much older, I wouldn�t feel so small.

He stood gazing around the room. Sounds from the neighbors TV drifted in through the thin apartment walls. The laugh tracks lightly mocked them along with the sounds of the neighbors laughing. She turned her head to the window watching the dust float and shimmer in the afternoon sunlight. Life seemed to stop and take a breath.

She inhaled deeply and was about to speak when a loud crash made her whip her head around. She turned in time to see the lampshade thunk against the table and join the rest of the lamp on the floor. He stood there his back to her breathing heavily one hand balled tightly in a fist, the other open, fingers dangling at his side.

She stood, speaking in an unnaturally calm voice, "my mother gave me that lamp."

She saw his head go down and walked to him placing her hands on his shoulders. She lightly ran her nails down his back imagining for a second that she could rip him open if she tried hard enough. The palms of her hands absorbed the pounding of his heart as she slid her hands back up to the collar of his suit coat. She slowly pulled it off of him, dropping it on a chair. Resting her head between his shoulder blades she ran her arms around his waist digging her fingers into his stomach.

She pushed herself against him breathing in his smell. She whimpered, breathed deeply and said, "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry, I didn�t mean�I don't know why�I �"

He stepped out of her arms turning around to face her. The air grew still as he studied her face. "You're not going to leave me, are you."

She shook her head. He stepped around behind her, placing a hand on her pelvis. His other hand went to her throat, softly pushing her head against his shoulder. She felt his thumb run down her jaw line and rest on her jugular. She felt his hot breath in her ear. Turning her slightly to him he pushed his lips onto hers. Placing one arm between them she ran her hand down between his legs feeling him grow hard again. She placed the other lightly on top of the hand on her throat sucking in his kiss.

But that was two weeks ago.

One week ago he came home as he usually did and she remembered again why she wanted to leave.

She was standing in the kitchen cooking dinner when the door opened. Her greetings were answered by a moody mumble and she heard him stomp into the living room and kick his shoes off. The sound of his holster hitting the coffee table came next making her jump almost expecting to hear the gun go off.

She bit her lip, closed her eyes and told herself it would be all right.

The TV clicked on and she methodically placed food on plates and walked into the living room.

"I made your favorite."

He didn�t respond. She put the plates down on the coffee table and sat on the couch as quietly as she could. She watched the steam rise and twirl above the plates trying to imagine she was feeling peace coming from him and not the hostility she really felt. She pulled a leg up to her chest, closed her eyes and put her head back.

She listened to her breathing, imagining she was somewhere far far away where the grass was green, the sun was warm and the breeze was sweet. She felt his weight shift next to her and his fingers running through her hair. Next there was a sharp tug as he pulled at her hair making her yelp, she felt him shove his hand between her legs fingering her roughly. Before she could make another sound he pushed himself on top of her forcing his tongue into her mouth. She turned her head trying to breath under his weight. The metal of his belt chinked, the sound of his zipper going down rung in her ears. Her gaze rested on his gun as she felt him thrust into her.

Two hours ago she was half way through packing.

She told herself over and over again that this time she would not give in to him. This time she would walk out, preferably before he got home. She wasn�t sure where she was going, but that didn�t matter, she just needed to go.

As she pulled down a stack of sweaters from the closet a box of pictures landed on her head the contents scattering at her feet. She swore to herself and kneeled down to pick them up. The first picture her fingers touched was from their wedding day. She looked at the man standing next to her and wondered what had happened over the past three years to change him so much.

An hour later she realized she wasn�t done packing. She scooped up the pictures and threw them into her duffle bag and rushed to finish.

Fifty seven minutes later she had the car loaded and was about to walk out the door for the last time when he entered the room and everything fell apart.