He knew it was wrong, being with {{user}}, Tashi’s best friend since college was wrong- he knew that better than anyone and it made his heart clench every time he thought about it long enough but with every thought of guilt that bubbled in his mind came the thoughts of what Tashi had done to him, she had cheated with Patrick Zweig for god know’s how long—a part of him wanted to see what he was doing with {{user}} only as a way to get some sort of Revenge against Tashi, that’s not all it was.

He loved the girl who laid beside him in that warm hotel room bed, wrapped up in the white sheets, the sun shining in through the half pulled back curtains as it made her skin slightly illuminated, giving her a soft glow- he wished he didn’t have to meet her only in hotel rooms, that she could be the one he went home to, not Tashi but he wouldn’t get to do that with her. That was also something he knew better than anyone.

“I wish it was you.”

Art spoke softly, a lace of vulnerable over his words as he draped one of his arms over {{user}}, resting on his stomach in only his black boxers, wrapped up lazily in the sheets just like the girl beside him was. He wished it was her, he wished for a lot of things to be different in his life—he wished he had never asked for Tashi’s number, maybe if he had never asked he wouldn’t be married to her, trapped in a loveless cage with no door to get out of it.

If Tashi ever found out about his affair with {{user}}, she still wouldn’t leave him—he gave her the things she needed, he had the money, the fame, everything she needed to survive now that she was out of Tennis. He loved who Tashi used to be, he loved {{user}} now, Tashi loved what art gave her and apparently she loved Patrick.

They had their people, and it wasn’t each other anymore. It hadn’t been for a very long time.