The only thing Marney could see was the profile view of that woman straddling on top of him, moving slowly yet relentlessly. She could see his face twisted in that sweet way that she had seen from beneath him only days before this—before the incident.

The brunette stood a little straighter at the doorway, running her tongue over her teeth, a scoff releasing from her mouth. The movement stopped now, but Marney didn't wait around to see his face now. She didn't hear his protests, she didn't see the smirk on the older woman's face as Dylan scrambled up to find his boxers, his pants, anything to save him that last shred of dignity.

By the time Dylan had caught up to her, she was already getting into her car. Marney didn't notice she'd been crying, breaking down that mask that she always wore. Except around him. His hand, the one that was not holding the sheet around his naked waist, managed to stop the door as she tried slamming it closed. The connection of his arm and the door caused her car to shake, her hand falling into her lap. She fixed her eyes to the miles on the dashboard, ignoring his pleading eyes. She listened to the ticking of the car, signaling her that her door was still open, her seat belt not on, instead of listening to his quick and jumbled apologies.

Dylan took her face in that same hand, but the only think she could she was his hand resting on that woman's hip, eyes shut, lips parted. Marney squeezed her eyes shut to rid the image.

"I don't..I don't know what I expected."

Her voice hardly sounded like her own, but it certainly made the man's mouth snap shut, his string of apologies dying behind his teeth. She looked at him with anger, disappointment devastation. He could see the emotions one by one as she struggled to decide which she felt the most. That scared him—and nothing really scared him.

"Did she make you feel better than I did? Was her skin softer? Was she tighter? Was she..." The girl's eyebrows knitted, scrunching in confusion that in any other situation, Dylan would find cute. It was never her place to understand why people did the things they did.

"I would say that I didn't see something like this coming, but that's bullshit. I'm twenty...I'm not two. I'm not that naïve. I mean...god, look at you! How could I ever be surprised?"A laugh escaped her lips as he leaned his forehead on the car.

Dylan had fucked up before; he'd slept around before, in a different time, on a different girl that didn't mean as much as Marney did. He'd only muttered the words, "I know," over and over, with an exhausted voice. It was hard to tell if his exhaustion came from chasing his girlfriend, or from bucking up into another woman.

"I love you, Marn. I love you so much..." Marney's hands twitched in her lap as they usual would during an argument between them, but the smack that followed was almost surreal. She was nearly as surprised as he was, but that angry red mark on his cheek shone bright, new, and vicious.

"Fuck you, Dylan."

He stepped away from her car, taking in this image of her. Blue eyes dark and rimmed with red from tears making their way down her pale cheeks.

"I fucked up…" he'd murmured just loud enough for the pair of them to hear. But it wasn't a question, or a statement. It was a realization. A realization that he was the biggest fucking idiot right now, letting her slam the door that second time, letting her drive off. He knew where she would go. He knew what she'd do to herself. He knew her too well to think she'd do anything else.

And all Dylan could do was retreat back into that house to gather his clothes.