He could leave her first, she knew this. But she wondered if he really had it in him to leave.

It was something that upset her: Would Mark stay even if he wanted to leave? What did it mean to be with someone who couldn’t leave.

It nearly occurred to her that perhaps that was exactly what she was doing, too. Staying, unable to leave. But the thought was slippery and didn’t stick. When she tried to remember what it was she had just been thinking, she couldn’t recall. Something about leaving, she thought, sprawled out across the jagged cream diamonds, studying the grooves of ceiling tiles.

She wondered what it was they were both staying in, what they were staying for. Exactly.