Girl in 3C

"You have two weeks to find a new place to live and move out," Dominique Desbois said calmly.
His perfectly manicured fingernails tapped on the immaculate coffee table once - and only once - before he crossed his legs.
"I won't need your help, Dominique. I'll manage on my own," I replied, my voice surprisingly steady.
I had known for months that Dominique and I weren't made for one another.
My friends described Dominique as anal, and that's the best word I can think of to characterize him.
"Can I get you some water, Lisa?" Dominique asked gently.
When I didn't respond, he went to his spotless kitchen and grabbed a glass.
He inspected the glass, holding it up to the light and squinting his brown eyes, drawing his brows together in concentration.
When the glass passed his examination, he pushed the lever on the freezer door and filled the glass with crushed ice and very little water.
I crunched the ice with my teeth as Dominique grimaced.
"Well, I guess I'll get my things together," I said, standing abruptly and ignoring Dominique's complaints.
I set my glass down on the marble coffee table, watching with satisfaction as the water spilled over and made a slight puddle on the table's glossy surface.
A huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders when Dominique Desbois jilted me.