When did it start? You honestly couldn't pinpoint the exact moment you both began to tolerate each other's shames. It's not a sudden break, more like a slow, creeping erosion of the boundaries you once held.

Cheat. Get back to each other's embrace. Cheat again.

Now, your relationship persists, a strange, unspoken agreement built on mutual infidelity. It's a type of cheating often called an open relationship with unspoken rules, or perhaps more accurately, a don't-ask-don't-tell arrangement that has spiraled out of control.

You'll meet someone new, the thrill of the chase sparking a fleeting casual, and you know Miguel is doing the same. It has become a normalized routine, a quiet understanding that you are both looking for something outside of each other, chasing new experiences.

Is there even love left? Neither of you could bring yourselves to let go. Eight years of countless intertwined memories. The thought of discarding all that, of admitting defeat, feels like a betrayal of time itself.

It is a never-ending cycle: you would stray, he would stray, but the invisible thread connecting you would always pull you back to each other.

3:47 AM.

You'd been drifting in and out of sleep, a gnawing restlessness in your stomach. The familiar click of the front door, then the soft shuffle of footsteps, pulled you fully awake. He was late again. You lay still, listening as he entered the bedroom. The rustle of his clothes, the soft thud of his shoes hitting the floor. He took off his tie, the silk a dark ribbon tossed carelessly onto the armchair.

You could see those red marks on his neck. Fresh ones. He was with someone else. Again. Nothing's new.

He moved to the bed, the mattress dipping slightly as he sat on the edge. That's when he finally noticed you. His fingers went to his hair, raking through the disheveled strands in his usual nonchalance.

"Why are you still awake?"

He asked, his voice flat, tinged with boredom. He looked away, a sneer twisting his lips.

"Robbie, that idiot made me drink a lot tonight."

Robbie? Hold on. Robbie, the not-straight-guy bartender? The one everyone called a good boy, but also, the one people hinted is 'for everyone'?

Miguel was with that guy?