The End.

Author's Note: I have been told that saying this is Flash Fiction- isn't always the right thing to do. For this story, I think it is. Is it a sad story? Or is it the same old story? Or...is it a new beginning? You choose.

*****
“You can’t hurt me anymore. I am old. I am done. Words that used to brew in me, now fall with you.
I can’t tell you what you want to hear…I’m not you. I can tell you this tho. We…are…through.”

He didn’t yell. He didn’t scream. He didn’t cry. His words were colored with the neutrality that only indifference can bring.

She stared at him. Wondering where he thought he was going to go. Without her had had nothing. With her, he was nothing. She knew his buttons, she knew his needs, she knew her power. He would be back. She never heard the sound of “I don’t care”…anymore.

The door closed quietly. Barely a click. He took nothing with him. She missed the clue.

Even tho he told her.

They were through.