When Marie got home, Gavin wasn’t there. She called him, his phone was off.
She spent a wretched night. She didn’t see him until the following evening.
“Where did you go? Where were you?”
He looked at her, went to the bathroom, locked the door. She stood in the hallway repeating herself.
Gavin took a shower, came out in a towel, went to his room to dress.
“Why didn’t you come home last night?” Marie repeated seven times.
He stopped and stared at her;
“I am going out. If you don’t shut up I won’t come back tonight either…”
He had never spoken that way before. There was a fire in him, a hatred. Even if she didn’t have that wacky ‘spirituality’ she’d feel it.
She stopped speaking. Gavin dressed and went out.
Last night he’d crashed with a cousin. It hadn’t been comfortable but was better than being with Marie. He decided he would spend about an hour out of the house, and return. If she behaved herself, he’d stay.
Marie behaved herself.
Gavin never went anywhere with Marie after her performance at the cafe.