I closed my book and stared at Monique, who was standing with her back to me in front of the bedroom window. “What do you mean, Monique?” I asked again. With a sigh, Monique answered, “I mean I want a break, Randy. I’m moving out.” I got out of bed and approached her. Staring at her reflection in the glass, I said, “Moving out? A break?” She stared back at me through the glass with seriousness in her eyes, her lips pressed tightly together. She stayed that way for a good half a minute before she responded, and when she did, her tone was all business. “I’m tired of putting up with the bullshit, Randy. That’s all there is to it. I’m tired of your inability to be a man.” I stepped away from her and went back to the bed. I sat down and rested my elbows on my knees. “You’re not going to start this Tina crap again, are you? We’ve gone over this song too many times. Do we have to repeat it again?” “No. I’m tired of the song too.” “So just like that you’re going to move out?”
