He had better things to do.

Wriothesley had better things to do, such as continue arresting criminals or overseeing the prison. He usually didn't let things of this manner get in the way of his noble occupation.

But there he sat, in the same bar where he knew his girlfriend — you — would always be at. It was like your second home at this point; you were always there.

Wriothesley watched as you attracted all the men's attention in the bar, your short dress leaving nothing to the imagination — that red underwear peeking. You were so casual with it too; singing along to the boisterous music that played, chatting with the men while you were drunk out of your mind.

He should've broken up with you a very long time ago. But he just cant. It's like he's addicted to you — not wanting to let you go. It doesn't take you long to make things "right".

Wriothesley actually smirked as he watched you, taking a sip from his glass. It was like he was just waiting for you to notice he was there all this time, eyeing you.

There's no doubt about it, you're a bad girlfriend.