Lauren slowly approached the apartment building. All the lights were out but hers. Harry was obviously still there, even though she'd been gone for almost an entire day. He hadn't gone home. Oh this would be hell. She opened the door and saw Harry on the phone.
"Ok Marilyn, thanks anyway. Call if you hear from her. Ok, bye."
"Hi Harry,"She said cautiously.
"Lauren! Oh, I was so worried about you!"He ran to give her a hug, but she pushed him away. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"Harry, I...."
"Where were you?"
"Scott's house."
"GUBER! You went to Guber's house?"
"Yes, I did."
"Is that where you've been since 1am?"
"Yes. Do you have a problem with Scott?"
"I just didn't think that he'd be the one you just had to run off and see."
"Well I guess you were wrong."
"Lauren, is something wrong?"
"Harry, I can't see you anymore."
"I'm right here! Should I call a doctor? Is there something wrong with your eyes?"
"HARRY! Stop it! I'm serious.I'm sorry. I just can't. I'd appreciate it if you'd move your stuff back to your own apartment."
"Lauren, I don't understand!"
"I..Harry, please!"
"Lauren, why are you doing this?" Harry looked her in the eye, searching for an explanation, but Lauren stared at the floor, refusing to meet his hurt gaze."I didn't know! You never said there was anything wrong."
"I didn't know either. Please, Harry, this is hard enough. Just go!"
Harry wandered around the apartment gathering the various items of his which seemed to rapidly accumulate from those nights spent at her place. He'd spent every night for weeks in her arms. How could he ever sleep alone again? Without Lauren, the world as he had known it for the past month or so was over. And Lauren wouldn't even tell him why. He was ready to cry, but he didn't. Not then.
"Goodbye Lauren. I still love you. I hope you know that."
"I know, Harry. Goodbye."She closed the door behind him. All her strength gone, she slid to the floor, leaning against the door and cried. "What have I done?" she asked the air.
Outside of the apartment, Harry as well sat down against the door. He clung feebly to the box which held his "stuff" and then cried as he let it all spill out onto the floor.