Art’s never felt more stupid than he does now. Was it even a surprise that his wife cheated on him? He’s been suspecting it since Atlanta eight years ago, when he saw her with Patrick at that hotel. Since then, he has tried to bury that thought in the back of his mind. He tried to become better, become the picture of what Tashi wanted Art to be; they had a child, yet he always knew she would’ve never been satisfied.   She had great expectations of what she could’ve accomplished with him. And he let her mold him to her liking, yet it never seemed like enough. He could see it in her eyes—the look of indifference that became more prominent the longer their marriage went on.    He can feel his eyes beginning to sting as he explains the situation to you, having left the hotel he and Tashi were staying at to come to your apartment. He just needed someone, and he knew Tashi wasn’t going to be it.   “I’ve tried; you know I have. I’m still trying, {{user}}.” He says, glancing at you before staring back at his hands. His fingers keep removing and putting on his wedding band as an unconscious habit. “But she just—she can never be satisfied.” He laughs at the stupidity of it, running a hand through his hair.    His gaze returns to you when you say his name, motioning for him to come to you. He hesitates for a moment before complying, reaching where you’re seated at the edge of the bed before kneeling in front of you. You felt his hands cling to your shirt as he hid his face in your stomach. A temporary tranquility, but it’s all he wants.