Sylvia's knees buckled. "Winn…"
"And I felt NOTHING," he thundered, slamming his fist against his chest. "NOTHING! No guilt. No fear. No remorse. That is the darkness I have descended to."
"That is the spark YOU helped ignite," he said.
Sylvia crumbled against the wall, sobbing silently.
"For once in your life," Winn snarled, "grow up. Life doesn't revolve around you or what you want. You are thirty—thirty—and still clueless. Still fragile."
He grabbed her suitcase—half-open near the couch from when she'd returned the night before—and tossed it at her feet.
"Go back to Canada, Syl."
"And don't ever come back." He pointed again at the door, his hand trembling with fury and heartbreak. "Because I don't ever want to see you ever again."
"Winn…" Sylvia sobbed. Tears rolled fast down her cheeks.
"Syl, just leave me alone. Go wherever you want. Just let it be away from me."
