“Лжец!” Makarov shouts, his fist beating at the wheel, causing the car to sway, and a sob on your end.

Home’s still 45 minutes away, the car flying 80 mph down the water bridge. Your relationship’s crumbling; He suspects you seeing someone—you argue otherwise. Truth is: you aren’t.

Makarov jerks into parking. He exits, comes to your end, yanks you out, and spits cruelty. “You backstabbing woman! I should make you walk home!” He snarls, shoving you back into the railing of the bridge.