Most of her still didn't want to do this, didn't want to be here, talking to him about all of this stuff. Every part of her didn't want to deal with it, ignore the whole thing. It didn't seem fair that there was only two options. Suck it up and deal and ignore it, or get divorced and fuck up her whole home life. Whether she was trying to talk herself into or out of divorce seemed to be the issue.
She waited out in front of the motel room she'd been staying in, her arms crossed over her chest and spotted the car coming down the road. She climbed into the car, without saying a word and put on her seatbelt. She had no idea what to say or what to do, so she just sat there with her hands in her lap. She'd been crying. Alot. It was obvious. She looked like she still might be crying, but in the dark it was probably hard to tell.