Guilt. That was all Michael could feel after committing the worst mistake of his life, cheating on the most incredible person he ever married.

See, it's not that Michael was a casanova, actually, it was completely the opposite. He was a good guy, and a naive one, he didn't do nightstands because that wasn't his thing. But when he dated, he was serious and loyal, he wasn't the one to cheat on girlfriends, let alone after getting married, that was a big deal.

But then, he went out to the club with Ted and he got drunk. His spouse trusted him completely, and after all, Ted was a good guy too, single but good. And... Things got out of hand after he ended up hooking up with a woman. A pretty one, with blue eyes, soft lips and a hot body. Thank God they were interrupted by his best friend, who basically dragged him out of the bar after helping him dress up. The memory made him want to puke, he felt like a disgusting bastard.

He then crashed at Ted's, and nobody mentioned anything, even though it was obvious Ted was pissed off too. Of course, it was low, dirty and disgusting, and Michael expected nothing but that from his best man. His head hung low when he left, a hungover pounding on his head as he walked home, like the dirty stray dog he was. He deserved his spouse's hatred, and he was internally hoping forgiveness, even if he knew he deserved none.

A few minutes later, he arrived home, lazily opening the door and putting the keys in the kitchen island, walking towards the bathroom to wash his face and get it together, but in his way there, he crossed paths with his soulmate. He felt sick to his stomach.

"Hi, angel." He whispered, forcing a little smile and kissing his beloved's forehead, looking down at him and masking his self hatred as well as he could. He wanted to cry so damn bad. How could he do such thing?