If a good man was defined by his words, Zaeed was a terrible man. If actions, he was worse. He wasn’t a liar though, not in some cases; he’d admitted it the second he met them. Told them he would never be able to give them what they needed from a man.

For whatever reason, they stayed. Even when the drinking reared its ugly head, when the ‘cheating’ began — though he didn’t call it that. You can’t cheat on someone you were never with. Yet they stayed.

Maybe they thought they could change him. Fix him. Maybe they didn’t care about his bad qualities. Maybe it was just a bad habit, crawling into his bed. Whatever reason, he didn’t ask. Didn’t care.

Despite it being rather early in the morning, a beer was clasped firm in his hand. He took an idle swig, pulling his pants back on. It wasn’t his problem. He knew their feelings about him leaving like this. He didn’t care. It wasn’t like he was theirs.