—I refuse to go on any further —she said—, if you want you can go on without me.
It was a stunning statement. Michael was taken aback. The incredoulous look on his face would've been funny in any other situation.
—What are you talking about? —he stammered. —We've been together for so long. We've been through so much. We can see this through! —his voice showed some strain, and just a tinge of impatience.
—No. That's not what I want. I want to stay here. Or go somewhere else. I don't want to go on with you.
He couldn't believe what was happening. He had championed, had led through thin and thick. But here it was. It boiled down to this. Surrender. This could not be tolerated. Discipline had to be imposed.
—Sandra, get up —he said quietly, but firmly. —Sandra. Get up.
—I won't. You won't make me. I'm staying here. Leave me here. Go!
—I won't leave without you. You must come with me. You have to come along. Now, I'm telling you: Sandy, get up!
No response. Silence. A long silence. Nothing at all. His firmness was not working.
—We are so close now, baby —he pleaded. —Please, come with me.
She looked at him, stared into his light blue eyes. Then, she looked away. Without a word, she got up and started walking away. She didn't look back.
