The dishes were still shattered on the floor.

Emily stood by the doorway, arms crossed, eyes cold.

"You can’t just run when it gets uncomfortable, {{user}}."

You glared. "You don’t listen."

She stepped closer. "No. I just don’t agree. There’s a difference."

Neither of you moved for a while.

"So what now?" you asked.

Emily shrugged. "That’s on you."