a bit long, but...

Under the harsh white light of that bare restaurant, Liberty looked liked a cadaver. Pale skin, almost transparent, dark circles brought out the intense green of her eyes. She was glass; frail and breakable. Bailey sat across from her, unable to speak; to think clearly.
“I don’t know what to say to you.” He finally managed, his gaze averting her direction.
“Some things are better left unsaid.” She replied quietly; her voice like an injured animal.
“So what now?” he turned his head to look at her; take her in.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” The air was tense. Her heart was pounding. “I can’t just switch back, Bail.” Her voice almost begging.
“That’s not what I’m asking.” His tone had shifted. She looked straight into his eyes and everything was still. In the silence of their dialogue the buzzing of the florescent light served as their intrusive backdrop. The place was empty, deserted.
“I feel like I’ve fallen off the face the earth” she whispered.
“Well, that’s not my fucking problem!” he banged his fists on the table. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” But his voice expressed no remorse. Liberty stared at him, she looked broken; her glass eyes threatening to crack. “Babe, I’m sorry.” He reached for her hand, she pulled away and folded into herself. He looked around in anger, or maybe it was frustration.
“I just don’t know how to be around you anymore!”
“Fuck, Bailey! I don’t know what you want me to say!” the mantra of her monologue.
“Well, you don’t seem to be too concerned about all this!”
“You have no idea what goes on in my head!”
“That’s my point! You never let me in! No matter how hard I try you keep pushing me away! How do you think that makes me feel!?” the bored waitress didn’t bat an eye at the drama. The angry foreign cook peeked in from behind the counter, seeing as no blood was spilled, he disappeared back into the violated health code kitchen.
“This isn’t about you! Don’t fucking turn this around!” she was trying hard not to cry.
“No, this is about me! I’ve been in your life for ten goddamn years! I’ve given you gallons of free will, I’ve never pushed you, I never demanded anything of you! You always set the pace and we always played by your rules! Well, enough!”
“Enough? What does that mean?” She was bordering on anger, even though he spoke the truth. She had dictated the relationship for the past decade, but she was the same, she never asked anything of him; he could leave at any time.
“It means, I’m tired, Liberty. It means I love you, and I don’t know how to help you.”
Try. Please.
“I don’t need your help! I’m not your charity case!”
“Oh, god! Enough with this act! This pride and self pity act!” he was mean again. “Lib, I know that what happened to you was awful, and I’m not denying it or minimizing it, or anything like that, but come on! It’s been months. Are you going to be a victim forever?”
That last line hit her hard. He thought of her as a victim, as weak.
“I’m not weak.” She uttered, barely audible. Trying to convince herself, more so than telling him. Silence cut into her like a dull blade; hung around them like a bomb.
“No, you’re not. You’re the queen warrior.” His tone was sarcastic and cruel. Then his features softened. Again he tried to reach for her, and again, she backed away.
“I didn’t rape you. And I’m tired of feeling like it’s my fault.” His voice was calm now. Calculated. She stared at him, a bewildered look on her face. “I’m trying my best here, and it seems that no matter what I do, I can’t win with you.” He searched her face and tried to connect with her eyes. “I love you, and it tears me up seeing you like this.” He kept zig zagging between tenderness and angered apathy.
“What do you want from me?” her voice was broken, and her heart was shattering into a million pieces.
“I miss you. I miss being able to talk to you.” He paused. “To touch you.” He breathed. His words shook her, destroyed her.
“If you want sex, go and get yourself a whore.” Her voice was flat; she was trying to mask the pain and hurt she felt while uttering those words. She took a deep breath, afraid of the consequences of her statement.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” he came close, almost lunged at her from across the table. “Is that what you think I care about?!” his words were like venom shooting at her. “Fuck you, Liberty!” he said and walked out.