She says

She said we're not together. She said we won't be moving in together. She said she didn't love me. She said I can be replaced. She told me to buy condoms, kept them and had no sex with me. She wanted me to leave her. She had breakfast with me. She slept naked with me for several nights at her place. She said she had her period. She was talking to some other guy. She didn't want to kiss me goodbye. Oh well, so be it.

It was just a verbal assault. But I calmly asked if she could pass along the ketchup, and as I poured a squeeze out of the bottle, over its regurgitating sound, I said: "I'm having breakfast, can it wait?" I gave the analogy of a car that breaks down and instead of having it checked, the owner opts to just get a new car. "People are a lot like cars, they break down from time to time. We should have the same patience for others as we do for machines. Besides, I told her, I don't believe you: your words do not reflect your actions. It only matters what you consistently do, not what you say out of anger."
Then I left her for the new quarantine, 40 hours (not days), and had some miserable time apart before making contact again. I brushed aside my ego, swallowed the hard egg of my pride and saw her again. We haven't had a day apart in a while, and the fights have lost their urgency because I deflated the casual egotistical blow. A bull fighter doesn't face the animal head-on. Of course, I had a few drinks, a night out, the beast of my ego demanding there be a bloodbath to appease the gods of vanity, pride and thereby restore the shattered crystal of confidence.

Now she says she's ready to move out, move in and move on.