One Last Thing

Tampons.
That's what got her the most upset.
It wasn't the pictures that were still lying around. It wasn't the ring he had bought her. It was the half-empty box of tampons under his bathroom sink that she looked the saddest picking up.
She turned to me then and really looked at me.
"I'm guessing these won't be needed here anymore," she said, not angrily, as I had expected. She sounded so empty, so heartbroken at that moment that all I wanted to do was to hold her and tell her to leave the tampons, leave the make-up, stay here. I'll go. I'm the one that doesn't belong here.
I stood in the doorway watching with a pitiful expression. I didn't know what to say or do. Why did he have to be out when she came for her stuff? He should've been here and I should've been out. He would've known just how to hug her and they could look at each other and be together again. And all would be right in the world once more.
"I think that's it then." Her voice breaks me from my thoughts.
"Please, take care of him for me. I love him --so much."
I nod jerkily. What to say, what to say?
"I --I will. Good luck...and thanks."
She smiles wistfully at me, her gaze not centered on me. Maybe she can't bear full eye contact; maybe she's always this way. I really don't know.
"No need to thank me; it was never really my choice to begin with."
I open my mouth to protest --she could've fought harder, not given up so easily --and she stops me.
"Don't say it. Please, don't say it."
I notice droplets slowly dripping out of her eyes, and I close my own eyes in shame.
When I open them a few seconds later, she is gone. Another second passes and I hear the front door opening and closing. A few more seconds and I hear a car starting and driving away, the sound growing dimmer and dimmer.