Pimpin' Ain't Easy

"So that's the way it's going to be?" she stammered.

"You knew the deal when you signed on," he said.

"Signed on? What did I buy? A car?" She was near hysterics.

"Now," he said, trying to be consoling, "You know I love you."

"Hah!" She nearly spat the word out. "But you won't leave her, your dear wife."

"I never said I would."

"You're a liar."

He grew irritated. "Maybe you should be more grateful. Who do you think pays for this apartment? Those clothes in your closet?"

"So? What? It's all about money now, right?"

"No, I didn't--"

"Because I'm not a whore, Henry. You don't get to say that. You don't get to buy me things out of guilt and then come by whenever you want for a roll in the hay. "

"Helen..."

"Just because you bought all of this," she said motioning around the room, "doesn't mean you own me. Far from it. I never asked for any of it. I was happy where I was. All I ever wanted was you."

"It's not that easy," he said, tired.

"No, I guess not," she said in a voice lowered to a whisper. "It should be, but it isn't."

"Helen..."

She went over to the table and picked up the apartment keys. She stopped at the door and turned around, looked at the man she used to love, still loved, but couldn't bear to love anymore.

"I'm going for a walk," she said. "When I come back, I'm packing up and leaving. I'll mail you the keys. Don't come looking for me."

She closed the door before she could hear his reply.