There is no relationship left to save; there is only a host and the thing feeding on it.

The objective, at that point, is surgical.

You sever the infected limb to save the host.

I pulled up my banking application, and I hovered my finger over the account-management screen, and I could have ended his entire charade with a single tap, right then.

But I did not.

Because I am, above all things, a person who understands timing, and I wanted mine to be perfect.

I wanted him to swipe that card in front of an audience.