Endings.

"Do you hate me?" She whispered.
He shook his head silently, watching her.  He couldn't summon the energy up to tell her that out loud; there had been hours upon hours of screaming, all layering into a hazy blur deepened by tears and hurt, and neither of them could take any more of it.  The morning sun shifted through the window panes, lighting her up as she stood at the edge of the bed, one hand resting almost absent-mindedly on the sheets.  He was sitting on the other side of the bed, facing the wall.  She had her brown coat on, the one he had given her for their three-month anniversary.  He heard her shifting around then, her footsteps fading slightly.  He heard her voice from the doorway: "I'm leaving."
He nodded in acknowledgement, and her footsteps grew fainter.  He listened to the familiar jingle of keys, the sound of her boots vibrate as they hit the concrete stoop, then the quiet click of the door.   He rubbed his hands up and down his thighs before pushing them against his knees to stand, walking barefoot to the window just in time to see her battered blue car turning from the gravel to face the pavement, pulling away with gathering speed until all he could see was the horizon line.  No speck of blue, no nothing.
"Goodbye."