As he left

"I have to go".

"I know".

As I sat there with the sun glaring through the window, kicking myself for having four pairs of sunglasses at home and none in my car, I realized there he was, in the driver’s seat, staring at me from behind his Ray-Bans and waiting for me to say it was over.

Not me.  I still had questions.

"Don't torture yourself".

"It’s not torture, I'm just gathering facts".

When his water ran out I offered some of mine. Stupid me, why did I still care?  He politely declined and went on to crush his empty bottle like he did my heart. 

"I really have to go".

Then go!

Thoughts sped through my head. 

When did I become an option?

As he finally said the words "I think we should leave it here. Stay friends, nothing else", I agreed.  I knew I wasn't going to stay. 

I don't recall words coming out of my mouth.  I just remember an overwhelming feeling of betrayal and loss.

He opened the door, left, but not before kissing my cheek just to make sure I understood, I slid into the driver’s seat, and drove away from where just the night before I had driven towards daring to believe I was the exception, not the rule.