"I don't know what on earth I am going to do when you go," he said, casting his eyes away. He looked through the window, and stared at nothing in particular. She studied his face. His eyes, big, hazel, began to moist. He blinked. "I'm too comfortable with you," he sighed, still not looking at her.
She peeled herself off the sofa and stood up. He looked at her, anticipating an answer. But she was not going to fight this one out. There would be no more rounds, no rematch. It really was over.
© S Christmas. Photo: Christmas & Holmes.
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