notes: For Kasey's Sam/Lisa challenge. And I promise to give her something better next time. 501 words, and Tiffany lamps.

*

She looked as if she were going to throw something. He almost wished she would, the bang would have made it all seem somehow more real.

"Lisa, I have to go." It was a bad refrain, his old broken record.

"You've said that Sam, you've said that over and over but you've never given me a reason. One day you're going to look back-"

"and wonder how the hell I put up with you for so long!"

He turned toward the bedroom, slamming his hand against the wall. He sat down on the bed, hands on his knees, and stared at the wall.

They'd been in the apartment for months, perfectly tailored for the magazine reporter and her brilliant law-partner husband. Muted browns and greens, Tiffany lamps scattered throughout. He admitted she had good taste, everyone knew she had good taste. They made a nice couple, their laughter melded. But he could never quite shake the suspicion that Lisa didn't really like him.

She came in and sat beside him.

"It was just a matter of time, wasn't it." Her voice was flat, she'd known it all along.

"Why did you say yes?" His voice didn't crack. They could never blame this on emotions.

"I don't know. Don't look at me that way, I don't." She was the same Lisa he thought he was in love with, the same Lisa he first met. "Why did you ask?" And there was no reply, there could be no reply. She slipped off the ring and set it on the bed. Left the room and didn't look back.

He packed enough for a week, a few weeks, there were people waiting for him. He could get the rest later. Lisa could send it to him, when it all settled down. Nashua was waiting. Placed the ring on her nightstand and walked out of the room. Standing in front of the door he said, "We never would have worked anyway, Lisa. We both know that."

She stared at him, clenching her fingers together, knuckles white. "You never, not for one goddamn minute, wanted it to work." She stood, moving toward him, vaguely threatening. "You put no effort forth into this relationship, pouted every time we went out. You didn't even say anything about, about the Tiffany lamps!"

And he was angrier than he ever remembered being. "I wasn't that person Lisa, the one you wanted me to be. And I never will be the one that gets you on the lists, or enjoys meeting Mr. and Mrs. So-and-so -"

"Don't make this about me and my expectations, Sam! Don't you dare!" and he knew that she knew him better than he realized. But this time she did throw something, grabbed the green Tiffany lamp off the desk and hurled it against the wall. It shattered, shards of green glass scattering across the Oriental rug. He stared at the glass, kaleidoscope patterns, and said, "I'll call."

The door didn't slam. It was too late for that.

*

. another break up .
  . send a flower .
    . back to the garden .