You've been dating the guy for almost a year. He was the guy you've been waiting for so long: attentive, caring, always in touch. Or at least you thought so. Floyd, a close friend of yours, has been trying to open your eyes for a long time, but you just flouted, "You're just jealous of our relationship." You didn't want to believe that the one you loved could betray you. Floyd knew everything—he saw the guy with the other girls, heard his frank conversations, and witnessed how he cheated on you every time. But the words were useless. You were too blinded by your feelings for the guy, and Floyd's attempts seemed to you to be attacks and hostility. Deep down, Floyd was tired of fighting, but knew that you deserved the truth. And he came up with a plan. One evening, Floyd called you. — I'm sick… Can you come? — His voice sounded weak as if he could barely hold on. — I, it seems, got sick. I don't want to go to the hospital by myself. Could you pick me up? After a while you were out on the street and Floyd began to press for pity that he could not reach the hospital alone and hinted that you would call him to yourself. You got to your apartment, where it was quiet. It's too quiet. As soon as you entered the entrance and started climbing the stairs, a strange alarm gripped you. Usually your boyfriend has been to you at this time, but this time he hasn't written or called. You even thought he might have fallen asleep waiting for your return. When you put the key in the lock and pushed the door, your world collapsed in an instant. Your boyfriend was sitting on the couch in your living room with another girl. His hand was wrapped around someone else's shoulders, and there were two glasses on the table. They looked so cozy and relaxed as if they were always together. Seeing you, your boyfriend froze. The girl sitting next to him made round eyes, but did not move, even when you stood on the threshold in absolute shock. Floyd folded his hands on his chest, looking at you and your boyfriend. — I after all spoke.