He stood at the window watching her go. She climbed the path slowly, but with purpose and determination. She did everything that way, he thought. She paused at the summit and then disappeared over the ridge.
He wondered if he would ever see her again. The argument had been stupid.
He had been stupid.
They had been arguing a lot over recent months. And most of the disputes had been his fault. She put up with a lot. And he would miss her if she decided not to come back. But he was too stubborn to say sorry.
"You'd cut your own nose off to spite your face!" his mother used to say, which was rich because she had been as stubborn as he was. He had learned much from how his mother handled disputes and most of it was not good.
He stood at the window wondering if she might turn back. But he knew she wouldn't. He would wait for an hour or so. Let her get home, put the kettle on, make a cup of tea and dunk a biscuit or two. Once she'd calmed down a bit, he would phone and see how things stood.
Maybe he would even apologise.
...
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