It is finally happening. The fight that is ending your bond and relationship. You think to yourself about how they have used you, guilted you. It is finally time. You pick up the bag containing the last of their things and thrust it into their arms.
"I will die without these here," they say.
"No, you won't. How dare you use that against me. We are over. It's time to end this. You will never be here again."
They leave, with fuck you being the last words they say to you.
You close the door and take a deep breath. You prepare for what may come, but it never does. No one calls. No one tries to argue and hurt you for what has happened. The relief won't come for a while, but you are free to take care of yourself.
It's finally your time.