"What do you want from me?! What? Tell me already!" I shouted.

The fights were getting worse.

I threw my pillows at Marcel, my boyfriend of three years. Ever since that night two months ago, everything went downhill.

We stood in our bedroom, panting and staring at each other. I was so tired. No, I was exhausted. The fight had been going on for God knows how long. One minute we stopped then the next he would say the wrong thing and it started again.

"Lyn, please. Just stop and listen to me," he pleaded.

"Listen to you? You want me to hear your sorry excuses for cheating on me?"

"I'm not cheating on you! You just read that text wrong ....no I mean...it's not what you think." He paused and ran his hand through his dark curly hair and let out an exasperated breath.

I continued to stare at him as I plopped down on the bed. "You can't even be honest with me after all of this." The tears in my eyes couldn't be hidden anymore. They began to trickle down my face, wetting my cheeks that have gone warm from screaming so much. I'd suspected that my eyes were red around the rims. It was obvious crying had become one of my hobbies.

"I am being honest, Lyn. I swear it's not what you think. I made a mistake but that was months ago. After seeing the way you looked at me after that....do you really think I'd be stupid enough to go back there? No. Not even with somebody else. I want you. I love you. Nobody else. I hurt you and I'm sorry. If I could take it back I would. Just please, tell me you believe me."

He sat next to me on the bed and held my small hands in his big ones.

I wasn't staring at him anymore. The sincerity I heard in his voice sounded familiar and when I thought it was real, he hurt me again.

Could I trust him again?

I loved him. That I was sure of. But I couldn't help but think about what he did.

"I need time," I whispered. And indeed, that's what we both needed.

"Lyn-" he began to protest but I cut him off.

"No, Marcel. Don't. I'm leaving. Tonight. I can't...I need time."

He sighed. "Okay. But at least wait until morning. Please."

And because I saw that it was really late, I agreed.

Not because of the soft stare of his sky blue eyes, or the way my skin still tingled under the touch of his hands after so many years and after everything we'd been through.

Not because of the way I felt his pulse race in his hands at that moment like I did whenever we were about to kiss.

And definitely not because his pale pink kissable lips begged me to stay.

No. It was simply because it was late.

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