Wow, I'm so glad it's the weekend. You all know what that means! UPDATES! Yeah!

Disclaimer: MR characters are not mine. I do not own Hunger Games, though I mention it.

Claimer: All non MR characters are mine.

Just a fair warning, there is some course language in this chapter.

Now that we're all on the same page, READ ON!

January 6th

My first reaction was to stare at Fang in disbelief. He couldn't have been serious. We loved each other, right? Our vows were to cherish each other in sickness and in health, till death do us part. Last I checked death hadn't done us part just yet.

I shook my head. "You're not serious."

Fang pressed his mouth into a thin line, his cold black eyes hardening. At his sides, his hands clenched and unclenched.

As calmly as I could, I closed Hunger Games and tossed it on the coffee table. Idly, I pulled my hair into a loose pony, and made my way to the kitchen.

My feet paused in front of Fang, and I reached up to sort of caress his cheek.

"Fang, I don't understand. Why ever would you want to divorce me?" My nails dug a little, making him wince slightly. The marks that were left bled faintly in the dim lighting, making Fang's glare only intensify. No reply came.

I rubbed my temples, sighing. "Just tell me, Fang. I can handle it."

My husband gave me a reluctant look. He knew it was a trap.

With a deep breath, he took his chances. "I'm tired of you."

That was it? He was TIRED of me? Through gritted teeth, I managed, "You're tired of me? I've got news for you. I'm tired of you dragging your ass home at who knows what hour!"

"Not this again!" He groaned. Okay, so I got on his case about this a few times. So what?

"Well maybe if you didn't stay out all night, I wouldn't be worried that you're fucking around behind my back!"

"I'm not cheating on you, Max! Maybe if you actually put some trust in me, I wouldn't have to stay out all night!"

"Just admit that you're sleeping around."

"There's nothing to admit! I go to the bar, have a few drinks. That's it!"

My eye twitched. This wasn't adding up. He had to be lying. "Fang," I said nonchalantly, "when was the last time we had sex?"

"4 months ago." He answered automatically.

Jaw tightening, I yelled, "What's her name?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not sleeping around?"

"It's that slut Melody, isn't it? Oh, when I get my hands on her…"

"Her name is Marlene…"

"Ha! You are cheating on me! You dirty rotten pig!"

"Max," he sighed angrily, "I'm not cheating on you, okay? You called Marlene by the wrong name, okay? Just, drop it."

Tears came to my eyes, and I had to blink to hold them back. "Then why aren't you ever here, Fang?"

My question caught him off guard. He stood silently, trying to figure out what I was talking about.

"Fang, you're hardly ever here. When you're not working, you're out with the guys or on the couch watching sports crap." I took a shallow breath. He didn't need to see me cry. No one did.

Still, he made no reply. I took the chance to go on, "Even when you're here, it's like you're gone. The last time you actually interacted with Sadie and I was at Christmas, and that was only to open your presents. Face it, Sadie is basically growing up without a dad."

Fang forced a response. With his voice hollow, he said, "I'm doing what I think is best for Sadie."

"How can you know what's best for her, if you don't know anything about her?" He tried to protest and I held up my hand, "What's her favorite color?"

I waited in silence for an answer. Finally, he unsurely announced, "Pink?"

"No, Fang. She hates pink. Her favorite color is green."

He pushed his hair back; loose strands falling right back into place. "Why does it matter?"

"It matters because Sadie is your daughter. If you ever woke her up in the mornings, or put her to bed at night, you'd see that everything is green, Fang. You can't even make that simple of an observation."

"I've put my own daughter to bed before." What he said was forced. He knew he was lying.

I glared, my arms crossed. "What's her bedtime, then, hotshot?"

Fang snorted in defeat, "I don't fucking know!"

"8:30, Fang. 8:30, which is coincidentally the time that you're supposed to be home by at night."

"That doesn't matter," He claimed.

"Uh-huh. It never matters when a father doesn't see his daughter before she goes to bed, or even after she wakes up in the morning. It's perfectly normal that sometimes you don't see Sadie all day." I wasn't even sure if that made sense. (As if I really paid attention to what I was saying at this point.)

"I'm providing for my family. You guys eat don't you?"

"You don't get paid!" Okay, that was a little insensitive. Fang was working hard to get his degree.

I had never seen his face get that red. "You didn't always work, Max!"

"I was depressed, in case you didn't notice!"

"You were depressed because Malachi died, Max. It was time to move on."

I really couldn't stop myself from crying. When a mother loses her baby, not even time can heal a wound that deep. I brought my hand back and slapped Fang so hard that he turned to spit out the blood.

My body was shaking. My adrenaline was pumping. I was so ready to kill him. I swear I would have. The only thing that saved him was the look on his face.

Frozen, Fang's eyes were the size of dinner plates. His cheek was bleeding in 5 separate places, and there was blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. Wiggling nervously in her father's intense stare, Sadie stood, clutching her favorite blanket. Silent tears soaked the thin fabric as my little girl turned and ran back to the safety of her room.

There were no words to describe how worthless I felt, after seeing her face, so scared and confused.

Wow. Done with this chapter.

I'm not sure how in character Max and Fang were, but this you can definitely see the different sides in this argument.

Who is more justified? Fang for wanting a divorce, or Max for accusing Fang of cheating? Be sure to tell me in a review. Or don't. Just as long as you review. For me?

Thanks!

~Faxisthegreatest123~