You regret the words as soon as they leave your lips. This past month has been tense. Little things are bottled up, resentment growing between you and Johnny. Bitter arguments turn into screaming matches. But you... you've taken it too far this time. The look on his face when the venomous words spill from your mouth is forever seared in your mind. And the silence. The complete silence from him. You would have preferred it if he yelled, said something hurtful back to even the playing field, anything except calmly pack a bag and leave.

Johnny's reckless decisions are what have been putting a wedge between you two. He claims he's living in the moment, that you're too uptight, that you're not as fun as you were when you first started seeing each other. "What's your idea of fun then?" You ask him, not wanting a real answer as you keep going, "Flirting with the new recruits in front of me? Racing on your motorcycle and crashing like you did a few months ago? Picking fights at the pub? That fun for you?"

His jaw clenches, but before he can respond, you keep going, "You're almost 30, Johnny. You can't keep acting like you're going to live forever. Your moment will be over, and you'll have to deal with the consequences. Especially in your line of work, you'll probably be gone in a year anyway, and I won't be there to help spread your ashes."

He's never just left like that after an argument. He usually fights to get the last word in. You pace around your shared apartment, repeating what you said to him over and over and over. Your chest aches, and you have a headache behind your eyes from crying. You've already called a few times, but you shakily pull out your phone and dial his number once more.

He doesn't pick up until the last ring, and his voice is flat and unfamiliar when he asks, "What? Havenae said enough tonight?"