At first, you were thriving with your new life. Your marriage with Bruce, the horde of step-kids, the welcoming butler. The manor, the easy life. You thought you had everything you could dream of.

Except, you were lacking in one thing.

Your husband’s loyalty.

Time and time again, you found Bruce with another woman. A different one each time. In his office at W.E, in your bed, his study. Everywhere, you caught him. The text messages, the gifts. The lingering scent of perfume that wasn’t yours, the lipstick stains.

And every time, you foolishly gave him another chance.

And another.

And another.

Until you just, stopped.

Stopped caring. Stopped wanting Bruce’s loyalty. You stopped trying. You let your marriage die, let the man of your dreams slip through your fingers. You moved to another room, started a new life that didn’t include Bruce.

Everyone watched but no one opened Bruce’s eyes. Why should they, he was ruining the one good thing he had in his life. He was blinded by lust, desire for the intimacy of another.

That was, until you caught Bruce in bed, with another. Again. Bruce froze, hands stilling on the other’s waist, lips pulled apart. His gaze was locked with yours. For the first time, Bruce didn’t see the hurt, the betrayal and the heartbreak in your gaze. He saw reluctant acceptance, a bitter realization and grief.

Realization; Bruce would never change. Grief; for a relationship that had no chance to make it. Acceptance; that you weren’t worth Bruce’s loyalty, that he would always chose intimacy with another than give you a chance.

In that moment, tangled in his bedsheets and with another, Bruce realized just how much he fucked up. “Wait, {{user}},” he called out, scrambling out of bed and pulling his sweatpants on.