“Get out of my house” my voice was eerily calm as I confronted him. This man. The man I thought I loved, the man I did love, the man I thought could be the one. “Shit Madeleine, I didn’t mean it, I… you know I… I didn’t meant it.” His hand was shaky, as he rested it on the kitchen island. He wasn’t making any move to leave. I repeated myself, louder and slower this time. “Get. Out. Of. My. House.” He looked up at me almost like he was shocked that I was still telling him to leave even after his bullshit apology. “What the hell do you want from me!?” He yelled. “I said I was sorry!”

“Sorry!?” My voice broke. “That’s your excuse?? That your sorry?!” I couldn’t hold back the tears, I hadn’t wanted him to see me cry, but I couldn’t hold them in anymore. They streamed down my face, a few of them splashing on to the floor. “You said you loved me David… you said you wouldn’t leave… Dammit! You said I could I trust you!” My face was flushed red and stopped trying to maintain any sort of dignity. “You fucking knew… you knew my past… you knew my story and you still chose to go and fuck her.”

“Look I know… I know I fucked up but she’s just some dumb whore, I was stressed it was late, she’s just a fucking prostitute, hell she was probably high while it was happening… it didn’t fucking matter… Maddie you know I love you…”

I stared at him. Could he really not know? Could he really have payed so little attention to my life and my stories that he didn’t know.

“What?” He asked. I just kept staring.

“Maddie what?” He was getting irritated.

“Dammit Maddie say something!!”

When I finally managed the words they were almost a whisper. “get. out.”