If she wanted to leave, he wouldn't stop her. He wouldn't even think of it. And if she wanted to walk all 20 miles back, well... fine. It was so fine that when the door closed behind her, Tina grabbed a pillow off the couch and threw it into the wall, an exclamation point on how fine everything was. After all, she had said earlier that hypothermia and frostbite wouldn't be an issue, so what worry was there?
She's not my problem. He told himself this a few times, as he grabbed a bottle of wine from the bag and brought it back upstairs with him, where he intended to roll up in the blanket like a burrito and stare at the stars on the wall and not think about this night, about anything, for the rest of the evening.