He didn't hear her approach until she opened the car door, and then he spared a glance at her. Did she come to beat him with the champagne bottle? A parting shot? Had he forgotten to take something with him?
He flinched as she came up over him, his grip tightening on the door handle. He didn't mind being straddled in his car but didn't she want to have nothing to do with him? She didn't want him anymore but for some reason she was sitting in his lap, smoking his cigarette, telling him all this other stuff - why?
"You're right - I don't understand. I don't understand why you're angry, why you don't want me anymore, and why you're sitting in my lap telling me otherwise. What do you take me for? What're you trying to do?"
He wanted to shove her off and go. he wanted to hit his head against the wall or the steering wheel or something. He wanted to cling to her, take back everything he said and go back to the way things were yesterday, an hour ago - even fifteen minutes ago or whatever.
He didn't want her to abandon him. He didn't want her to hurt him - not like this. He had come here to help her and he was happy to take whatever shit she wanted to throw at him. But he hadn't wanted to lose her.
"I'm sorry; I thought you- we-"
He was getting worked up over nothing.
Reaching into his pocket, he groped around for his car keys.
"You had a lot going on this weekend - I didn't mean to add to your troubles. I'll leave you to yourself now."