Harry and Peter are in their bedroom sitting on their bed. Their backs are facing each other.
"My last boyfriend, I had a detective follow him, and even though I didn't do that with you, Pete, I know I ignored everything in me to be with you." Said Harry.
"Harry, why don't you just tell me what the hell you're talking about?"
Harry coughs, moves his had a bit, then sighs.
"I went to my personal doctor and before you every level in my body was fine."
"Baby, are you sick? Talk to me."
"Tell me the truth, Peter. Who have you been sleeping with?"
"Harry, I promise you, since you and I have been together, I have not slept with another man, and I promise you that. You mean the world to me." Peter says with his eyes glistening.
Harry finally turns to face his husband.
"Hmph." Harry snorts. "What about Flash"?
"What the fuck did you just ask me?"
Harry's eyes are about to water.
"Peter, don't play dumb with me you fucking whore! I see the way you look at him when you think I'm not paying attention. I see it. All those times at the Hamptons, the random times at the company, the other night at the opera...I see it all Peter!"
Peter shakes his head, angry at this accusation.
"Dammit Harry, you have no idea how much I hate coming into this motherfucking house sometimes. Everyday Harry! If it isn't you, telling me what to do, how to look, calling the shots over my head. I mean, a person can only take so much!"
Harry glares at him.
"Are you cheating on me?"
"Why would you ask me a question like that?!" Peter is livid.
"How the fuck did you marry a man like me, and then turn around and let a fucking man whore like Flash, fucking bend you over?!"
"Flash isn't bending me over." Peter says angrily.
Harry is in disbelief at this statement.
"Oh, so-so you're doing the bending? Is that what is it?" Harry is now crying.
Peter is now looking anywhere else but the man he's stupidly in love with.
"I don't wake up holding another man, walking down the street holding Flash's hand. That's cheating, okay?"
Peter finally looks at Harry, his heart breaking a little at the sight of his husband in tears.
"I could never do that to you, my love. That isn't me."
Harry is now shaking his head, still looking at him.
"You're telling me a lie Pete. You're saying a lot without saying anything at all." Says Harry, with more tears rolling down his cheeks.
Peter now turns his back on Harry, doubles back, eyes filled with tears.
"I'm saying that your husband is a man, Harry. I'm a man every day of the week. I'm a man."
Harry is now nodding his head in disbelief, still looking at Peter, while he speaks with his back towards Harry.
Peter continues.
"I'm just a man who enjoys having sex with another man, Harry."
Harry just shakes his head, turns around with more tears falling from his face while Peter continues his speech.
"No attachments, no fucking, no relationship, just sex, you know? That's what I'm saying, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Harry, for my truth. And I know it doesn't mean much, but I still love you, and that won't ever change." Peter says, who's face is now wet with his own tears.
Harry is now frustrated. He starts laughing out of anger, but the situation shouldn't strike him as funny. He's tired of hearing the same crap from the man he's supposed to love most in this world. He's now made his decision.
"Save your sorry, Peter. One thing I don't need are anymore apologies. I got a 'sorry' greeting me at the front door after I found out what went down between us and how it changed my life. You can keep yours. I don't even know what to do with them. I can't even breathe… with your sorries polluting my air. I can't even get to the clothes in my closet for all the sorries you have given me I have stored away in there. You know what? I'm gonna put a sign, a sign on the door. Better yet I'm gonna leave a voicemail. No, the prompt on my voicemail will say 'If you call to say you're sorry, then call somebody else' cause I don't use them anymore.' I let 'I'm sorry',' I didn't mean to' and 'How could I know about that?' Take a walk down a dark and musty street in Brooklyn, Peter. Well I'm gonna do exactly what I want, and I'm not gonna be sorry for any of it. Let your sick empty sorries soothe your soul, they won't soothe mine. You know you were always being inconsistent, doing things and then saying you're sorry about it. Beating my heart to death, talking about "you're sorry" sorries. I'm not gonna call you, I'm not gonna be nice, I'm gonna raise my voice, I'm gonna yell, I'm gonna scream, I'm gonna break things, I'm gonna race the engine and set free all your secrets you deny in your sick sorry mind, and I'm not gonna be sorry for any of it! I loved you on purpose. I was open on purpose. I'm not even sorry about you being sorry. You can take all your guilt and all your grime and do whatever you want with it. Just don't give it to me. I can't use another sorry. Next time, Peter, admit it. Admit that you're mean. Admit that you're mean, that you're low-down, down-low, trifling and no count straight out, who has time for some other man instead of me. Instead of being sorry, enjoy being yourself. I am not going to endure your sorries anymore. Thanks for nothing."
Peter is now looking at Harry with glossy eyes.
"When I get back, I want you gone," Harry gets the divorce papers off the desk next to him and slams it in the desk between the two of them, then proceeds to look at Peter. Harry then takes off his wedding band and slams them on the divorce papers, and proceeds to leave their bedroom. "and take your HIV with you!"