He probably should have stopped after the second pitcher.
At the start of the evening breaking up had been the farthest thing from his mind. Now, shuffling along the sidewalk in the clammy chill of an early September 2am, he tried to shake the last of the Leinie’s out of his brain to see if he could trace the trajectory of events that had led to the tearful scene he was walking away from.
He had felt torn: he enjoyed being a seminarian, but he also felt very strongly about the increasingly-passionate relationship that had developed between them. Of course, she had apparently been feeling torn, too: four months since things had first heated up between them, and yet there was still another guy in the picture, and no indication that would be changing anytime soon.
Had he merely called her bluff? No, he was pretty sure he had been sincere when he told her that, since she could seemingly not make up her mind, he felt he had to make up his. Bitter words, long silences, then he let himself out of her dark apartment and set out on the cold, lonely walk back to the seminary, back to the life he had re-chosen, away from the one he wanted.