So that was it. In all those times she couldn't get him to leave her alone, it was finally when she realized how much she wanted him in her life that he decided she had to go. For good. The pleasant buzz from the alcohol was all but gone, offering no comfort for the slow crushing of her heart as it sunk in just how badly she messed up. She had spent all of her life fighting romance and all that came with it, but it wasn't until that moment that she truly understood how much it wasn't for her and never would be. But she only had herself to blame, trying for something she knew since the very beginning that she couldn't have, and he had every right to hate her.
"Michel, I..." but it was no use, and Mabelle bit sharply into her tongue to prevent herself from saying anything else. There was nothing that she could say to fix this because there was nothing to fix, and the least she could do was quietly comply to his wishes after what she had done to him. Somewhere between her last words and blankly nodding in defeat, she had completely shut her thoughts out, not wanting to process anything until she was at least somewhere alone. Maybe not then, either.
On the way out, she left her cape on the floor where she removed it earlier, not out of forgetfulness but ready to face the discomfort of the bitter cold. She did, however, carefully pocket the eye as she passed the table, though not touching the knife out of knowledge what other reckless decisions she might make that evening. Not even allowing herself one last look, she slid the deadbolt open and exited with very little regard to which direction she was heading. Though unaware of the exact time, maybe there would be another party still going late that she could crash, because another drink or five sounded the best course of action.