(inspired by: arandomuserhere).

guilt weighed heavy in james's chest. god, what had he done? he felt like a fool. sitting up in the mess of tangled sheets you two left behind, his head would turn to peer down at your sleeping form.

peaceful. breathing. alive. unlike his mary.

he hadn't met for this to go any farther than the occasional coffee date, or evening spent at the bar. after mary's illness— a part of james had felt hollow. like his heart had been ripped out, leaving nothing but an open wound and a hole in his chest. his wife was dying, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. she wasn't gone, yet, but each day; each breath she took, she grew closer and closer to fate.

but you. god, you were so full of life. so full of love. you numbed the aching within his chest. tonight... tonight had gone too far. a few too many drinks at the bar, and james was driving you home. by the time he practically carried you up the steps to your apartment, you were all over him. and who was he, to deny you?

the weight of his wedding ring was a sickly reminder, making his stomach churn and guilt rise up like bile in the back of his throat.

you stirred behind him, james turning his head to peer back at you. his smile was tight-lipped, not fully meeting his eyes, but he doubted you'd notice in your drunken exhaustion.

"i didn't mean to wake you," he spoke, his voice hoarser than he'd like to admit. james pulled some of the blankets up higher on you, slowly and carefully standing to retrieve his clothes; scattered about the floor, shoving either of his legs into a pair of boxers and pants, "just... get some rest. i should go."

god, if mary ever found out... she'd never forgive him. his marriage, his life— he'd have thrown it away. That was worse then watching his wife's dying life.