(Softly) Look at me, Mark.
He gets it. Took him four hours and two rounds, but he finally gets it.
(Mark looks up, shocked.)
(Reaches down, lifts Mark’s chin) He doesn’t fight anymore. That’s the awakening. Isn’t it, honey?
(Turns, leans against the wall) You brought me here to watch. That’s what I’m doing. Watching you break. It’s boring, actually. I thought there’d be more of a fight.
You’re not the foundation. You’re the doormat. And that’s okay. Doormats have a purpose. They catch the dirt. They get walked on. And when they wear out… (She pauses for effect) …we buy a new one.
(Mark slowly raises his head. His eyes are red. His breathing is shallow.)
(Quietly) I am not your husband. I am your witness.