“Fine,” she said, and threw the keys at him.
“And what’s in those bulging suitcases?” he demanded.
“My clothes,” she said.
“You mean the clothes I’ve paid for? They’re not going anywhere!”
“Fine,” she said, tipping out the cases before stripping off completely and hurling her clothes at him.
“And,” he continued, warming to the theme, “what about the blood in your body? I sat with you for six months in the hospital. You know half of the blood is mine. You’re not going anywhere.”
With that, she whipped out her tampon and said: “I’ll pay you back in monthly instalments!”