They laid there in the dark, trying to determine what their next step was. Maybe she shouldn’t have said that. But she was hurt, and her guard was up. She said, “Aren’t you going to talk to me?!” “No I’m done.” “You can’t be done. If you’re done with conversations like this, or when things get tough, that’s when we’re going to fall apart.” She said with a quiver in her voice but no tears in her eyes. Were the tears already dried up? The silence between them grew to be unbearable for her. “Well if you’re not going to say anything then you’re right I’m done too.” She threw the covers over him and left the room in tears. She was waiting to feel his hand on her arm, for him to walk out that door and follow her, for him to curl up beside her on the couch, to fight for her. All she wanted for was him to fight for her. Just like he told her he would.