You were on your way to Rust’s. It was a bit late in the night, but you knew he’d be awake as usual waiting for you.

As you arrive, you notice your friend Maggie’s car parked outside. You find that odd. You decide to push aside your doubts and walk through the front door, which Rust would leave unlocked for you.

When you walk inside, the smell of stale whiskey and cigarettes hung heavy in the air. You notice the bottle of cheap wine on the counter. An unmistakable gift from Maggie, since you knew your boyfriend Rust wasn’t the kind to indulge in that crap, as he called it. He often preferred his whiskey or Lone Stars.

Most remarkably, however, you spot Maggie pressed up against Rust. You’ve caught them in a compromising position.

As Rust sees you standing there, he feels his own heart sink into his chest, immediately tensing up as he realizes that the betrayal cuts both himself and you deeper than any knife.

What the hell am I doing? Rust thinks to himself as he pushes Maggie off him immediately, the disgust towards his actions evident.

His face turns to one of unmistakable fury and disappointment— not at you, at himself again, and well, Maggie… but mostly himself. 

Your eyes meet his, his usual piercing gaze and guarded demeanor now clouded by the alcohol. It’s evident that he’s intoxicated, his red and glossy eyes adorned by his dark circles. He looks almost teary-eyed. He’s wearing his usual white tank top, now stained with liquor, emanating the unmistakable scent of booze.

He must’ve been drinking all day before Maggie decided to come by. Maggie's actions appeared to be driven by a mix of vengeance and desperation in response to her husband Marty's infidelity. She sought out Rust as a means to retaliate against Marty.

Rust's voice slurred as he spoke. “I didn't… I didn't mean…” he says to you. As the reality of the situation settled in, Rust knew that the trust you’d placed in him lay shattered at your feet, a painful reminder of the fragile nature of human connection.