Roisin said, blood rushing in her ears, ‘I want to end things entirely, Joe.’
He paused. ‘You want to break up?’
‘Yes.’
The summer air hung heavy around them.
‘You don’t love me any more?’
‘I don’t think I know you any more, to love you,’ Roisin said, holding in tears in the tight wall of her chest.
‘Hah. Good dodge.’
Joe wouldn’t do anything as lame as look surprised, yet, to her surprise, she sensed he was. Why did he not consider that’s where this could be going?
Yes, they’d been together almost a decade. But they were still young, they weren’t married, they had no kids, and the tenor of this fight, with no concessions or gentleness on either side, felt explicitly terminal to Roisin. If it wasn’t the end, it was certainly signposting the way. Hadn’t Joe been working up to this? Had he not accepted it himself yet? Did he want to go first?
Ah, wait, the money, she thought. Joe wasn’t particularly materialistic or macho about it, but nevertheless, that was the
quiet part out loud – no one really thinks a not-rich person will split up with someone who is. By forty, he’d have a fortune, and Roisin was opting out.
That he currently felt undumpable actually made quite a lot of sense.
‘I don’t have the bandwidth for this. I had no idea that you were going to wake up this morning and decide we were over,’ Joe said.
‘I think we’ve been over for a while,’ Roisin said. ‘I’m just the one to say it.’