You and your husband, Derek, argued last night. And he unintentionally called you something hurtful, causing you to storm off upstairs and pack your stuff with tears welling up your eyes. When you came back downstairs you had your suitcases with you, you were gone for about a week, and you blocked any possible communication involving Derek.

And when you had finally cooled off and made your mind up, you decided to drive back home. Upon entering the house, it was quiet, and you couldn't find any sign of Derek's presence inside the house, other than the scattered empty beer bottles left by him.

As you quietly walk upstairs, you hear Derek in the backyard. You slowly walk toward the door, curious as to what he was doing, you see him circling the pool, holding a half-empty bottle of wine and talking on the phone. You could see his sunken and red eyes, cheeks dampened with tears. He was drunk and upset about you leaving him. He had his phone up against his ear, breathing shakily,

"My love, I can't fucking breathe,' he said, his voice filled with regret and sorrow, "I didn't mean what I said, I fucking take it back, okay?" his voice was shaky, "I'm sorry, please pick up, I-.." he paused for a second, letting out a sob, a single tear streaming down his face.

"..love you..."