Disclaimer: still no.


Thinking about him just hurt too much. Too fucking much. But she did it anyways.

It had been seventy six hours since he left. Seventy six hours, the first seventy six of the rest of her life, all because of two hours of her life that she regretted. Two hours, and life as she knew it was over.

She lay on the floor, bottle overturned, spilled on the rug that she had picked out only three weeks prior. She knew he didn't care about the colour or the specific fabric, but she did. He just smiled and held her hand as she bought it, and took her out to lunch right after. She remembered so clearly, the way his eyes would crinkle when he smiled, or how he smiled slightly more to one side, and his laugh, clear and genuine. And she remembered how the smile was wiped off of his face in an instant, never to return. Well, at least around her.

Because if Zoey Matthews knew one thing, it was Chase, and she could read him like a book. And she knew, he was never coming back. She guessed she should probably take off the ring, the one they exchanged on their wedding day so many years ago, because she wasn't worthy of it. She wasn't worthy of him. She hated herself, fucking hated herself.

"Oh come on. Let's just sneak off, my apartment is right across the street." The blond male said to her, leaning against the wall of her cubicle.

"For the last time, Garrett. I'm married. I'm not interested." She spat, blushing a little as she looked into his eyes and realized that he knew. His eyes were royal blue, a pretty colour. She remembered them well from high school, for the brief time they had dated.

He walked over to her and leaned his head down, where no one else in the office could see. "You sure?" He whispered in her ear, raising goose bumps on her arms.

She shuddered, losing all her train of thought. "Umm…"

"It's your loss." He said, pressing his face against her own.

She smiled, ever so subtly. She had always known that James was into her, and although she loved Chase with all of her heart, and would never intentionally (well before that day) hurt him, she left herself behind at work that day and left with him.

Chase was busy with work, and they hadn't slept together in months. She was thirty five. Chase was working on his third novel, after sales on the first two went through the roof. She was proud of him, but she often felt as if he put too much time into his career, and not enough into the family. She just wanted some affection once and a while. He used to be so loving, so soft, caring, but the man she was living with seemed to be the polar opposite. So she went with James, and all hell broke loose.

She turned her head, noticing the spilt liquor, and got up, grabbing another bottle and taking a swig, not even feeling the burning as it went down. She looked up above the fireplace and saw their wedding picture, the frame cracked from their argument.

"Come home." She mumbled, staring at his face in the picture. "Please…"

Her eyes filled with tears and she set down the bottle and collapsed, screaming.

She buttoned up her blouse, smoothed her hair down and stared at herself in the mirror. Paralysed with the fear of what had just occurred, her eyes widened and she felt sick.

"You okay, babe?"

She had always hated being called that. "Yeah, James. I'm fine."

"Want me to drive you back to work?" He said, kissing her collarbone.

She shoved him off. "No, I think I'm just going to go home."

And she ran out before he could see the tears streaming down her face.

The walk back to her own house was forty minutes, and as she didn't have her car with her, she chose to walk. She knew that Chase would know something was wrong immediately, and she wouldn't be able to hide anything from him.

She dragged the blanket off of the sofa and wrapped it around her as she lay on the floor. She could distinctly smell the musk of his cologne, and she knew it would fade, so she stayed there and let the smell torture her. She deserved it.

She walked in and set down her purse in the front hall, slowly walking around to the kitchen.

"Hey." He said to her, smiling, and giving her an enthusiastic kiss, longer than their normal peck when she got home. "I finished my rough draft!"

"That's awesome." She said, trying to cover up her guilt.

"Yeah I just…" He trailed off, looking at her face. "What's wrong? And why are you home so early?"

"Nothing. Just a busy day, not feeling very well." She smiled weakly.

"Zoey." He just stared at her, analyzing her face, when she broke down.

She sank to the floor and buried her head in her knees, sobbing.

"What's wrong?" He tilted her head up, kneeling next to her. "What happened?"

She shook her head. "I did something bad. Really bad. And you're going to hate me forever."

"Zoey, seriously. I love you. I always will. Just tell me what's going on."

"You don't deserve this. You should hate me. I hate myself." She sobbed harder.

His eyes hardened as he began to realize, and his hands dropped from her face. "What are you trying to say, Zo?"

She couldn't bring herself to look in their (well, her) room anymore. She didn't want to see the bare room, the half empty closet. The room was eerie. She wished she hadn't been so selfish, and that she should have just discussed her concerns instead of acting on impulse.

"No no no no no no, please, Chase, just listen to me. PLEASE. Chase. Chase, I love you. Please don't do this."

He hadn't said a word to her since she confessed. He just simply walked up to their room and started packing his belongings.

"Chase please. I love you."

"WELL YOU SHOULD HAVE FUCKING ACTED LIKE IT." He screamed at her, his eyes tearing up as well.

"Chase I made a mistake, please don't do this."

"Have the last ten years of us being married meant so little to you, that you would go and FUCK JAMES FUCKING GARRETT, JUST BECAUSE I'M A LITTLE BUSY, AND IT'S INCONVIENIENT TO YOU?"

"Chase I am so so so sorry just please listen to me." She rambled on between sobs.

He picked up their wedding picture and dropped it on the ground, before taking the ring off of his left hand and leaving it on their kitchen table, and leaving out the front door.

She ran after him into the driveway and down the street as he drove away, not looking back at her once.

Thinking about him just hurt too much, but the idea of him never coming back killed her.


A/N:

This was inspired by one of my friends who was recently cheated on. I don't know why specifically I wrote this, but since I've been watching her suffer for the past few weeks, I figured it would be best translated into writing.

It's 1:30 AM, so if my writing/spelling/grammar is shit than I don't care at the moment. Maybe I will after a decent night's sleep. I was just feeling like writing some angst, and I saw Austin Butler (James) on TV yesterday and decided to include him.

I might write a follow up/epilogue, but ONLY if this gets reviews, and you guys would actually read it. I want to hear FEEDBACK (please?).

-Sarah