TRACY: I’m unhappy, Cal. I’ve tried not to be. We’ve been married so long, somewhere we became… stagnant, you know? Okay, you’re not talking and you know that only makes me talk more. Maybe that’s good, maybe that’s good. Okay… (then) There’s this person. We’ve been spending time together. Lunches, meetings, that kind of stuff… (Silence. She closes her eyes tightly.) I slept with him. Kind of. (Tracy opens one eye, taking a peek. Nothing.) No, no kind of. I can’t believe I said kind of. That’s just not something you do in a kind of way. I slept with someone. There. I said it. I slept with someone. Oh God. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done but it feels so good to say out loud. I slept with someone. I SLEPT with someone. I slept with SOMEONE. I slept with… please stop me, please say something. (No reaction) David Jacobowitz. From work. You met him at the Christmas party. You remember that party? They had the giant paper-maché wreath? I kept asking the decorator how he made it? You wore that sweater – The last person in the world I’d ever want to hurt was you, Cal – But the fact that I did, that it could happen at all, I think it just shows how broken we are and —
Just like that, Cal OPENS THE DOOR to the moving car and, simply, steps out. Tracy SCREAMS as Cal goes flying. She screeches to a stop as he tumbles to the curb in her rearview mirror.
