I read the text three times before I understood it. He had done it. After every conversation. After the specific conversation where I had said the specific words. He had done it anyway. I stood up too fast and my chair hit the wall. My hands were shaking, which annoyed me further because shaking hands are the hands of somebody too rattled to do anything useful, and I was not rattled, I was something much cleaner than that. I picked up the phone and put it down again because the message I wanted to send would have cost me the last scrap of ground I was standing on. I walked three times around the kitchen trying to get small enough to sit back down.