You sit here counting pennies and demanding ledgers while I suffer every single day as a single father.”

He grabbed the check from the edge of the table, stood up, and tossed a ten-dollar bill onto the vinyl seat.

He didn’t look at me again as he walked toward the register at the front door.

I left my sandwich on the table and followed him out through the glass double doors.

The November air bit at my neck.

Mark was already halfway across the asphalt to his late-model black sedan.