carry out

you over hear
the argument
at the table beside
you.
a man and a woman,
middle aged
and well dressed.
the man
is angry.
his fists are
clenched on
the table, his
face his ruddy.
their food sits
there going
cold.
the ice melts
in their drink.
you hear her say,
I can't do this
anymore,
but I love you,
he says.
you're married,
she says. you'll
never leave her.
he reaches
for her hand,
but she pulls away
knocking
a glass
over.
I have to go, she
says. I'm done.
finished.
he starts to get
up, then puts some
money on the table.
he stands and watches
her leave,
walking quickly across
the street.
he pulls out his phone,
hi honey, he says.
i'll be home early
tonight.
are you hungry?
i'll pick something
up.
the waiter comes
and brings two boxes
for the food on
the table.
he never looks over
at me, nor I at him
as he walks
away with his carry out.