Truly, a lover’s fury is not to be trifled with, as Ajax discovers first-hand.

He curses under his breath, dodging the vase you hurl at him. The ceramic shatters against the wall, its fragments cascading to the floor like grounded dust. “Archons. I fought tooth and nail to buy you that. Calm down, will you?”

Had the circumstances been different, he would have revelled in your fiery outburst, finding delight in the chaos you create (torn bedsheets, shredded curtains — what a sight you are). Alas, this time, the blame is entirely on him.

Who could have predicted that a few drinks and a misplaced compliment would ultimately lead to you discovering him in bed with another? If there is one thing he regrets in his life (and Ajax rarely ever regrets anything), it‘s witnessing the anguish etched across your face, knowing full well that he is the architect of your heartbreak.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he grits out, nails digging into your wrist in an attempt to snap you out of your rage. “I really am. Can we talk about this? I promise I can explain.”

The explanation itself is fairly simple. The real challenge lies in persuading you not to leave him.