Up until this point Ford's fling with Langston - read: not affair, it's not like she was married to the guy (and trust him, he knows what an affair looks like, and its nothing like this High School drama) - had been something of a revolving door.
She opens a door to find him standing there - ever so patiently - as if he had some supernatural understanding of exactly the next moment she would want to leave her gilded cage, with that trademark smirk on his face. A few more trips around the merry-go-round and it's his turn to slam a door, not with physical force, but with the hint that he may never open it again lingering behind. That always works.
(He tells himself its because she needs him and while he doesn't truly believe that, it does the job of easing his mind.)
Then she catches onto his arrogance and slams one of their doors in a self-righteous huff. Inevitably though, she follows her queue and reappears behind another one. He can always rely on her for that. That's the beauty of revolving doors: they never go anywhere.
It's like an affair in the way it all takes place behind closed doors: the door of a hotel room, his office, and his bedroom when his roommates aren't around. At one point he had to hide behind her closet door until the boyfriend finally leaves. For a moment there he was afraid he'd let his life become a parody of an R-Kelly song. But that's all part of the thrill.
Now though, Marco has opened the door right at the moment they kiss – because, of course, when else would he open the damn door? He tries throwing Langston every lifeline he can think of: "it was just a kiss, man!" But she doesn't take any of them, at least not with any real gusto (after all she's a writer, not an actress.) It's all teen movie predictable with lots of crying and Marco decking him until Langston decides that now would be the perfect time to throw their script to wind and ad libs, "you said you loved me!"
Well, yeah, he did but – but…He completely lost track of where this was going. All of a sudden he sees Marco - really sees him, with his bloody fist and tears in his eyes, and Langston in her sexy black and red prom dress suddenly looks like she's playing dress up. They both look as if a tornado hit them that was too preoccupied slashing their souls to ruin there meticulously arranged outfits. And he did that.
He makes to grab for a beer but really hides behind the fridge door for a few seconds. The mindless white light shields him from their horrifying image. "You said you loved me," she repeats. This time there's an edge of anger in her voice he doesn't recognize.
He still won't throw away the script – he just won't.
"We said a lot of things we didn't mean" is what he finally says to her. He preserves his cool, casual demeanor in the face of her black and red monstrosity. As he continues on his speech about how the thrill is gone and he never promised her anything anyway, he pretends not to see the storm of rage building underneath her rigid surface. He knows he hurt her more than she could ever hurt him – but, its not like she didn't know what she was getting into.
She opened a door she was never supposed to open.