The honeymoon was already on the doorstep of grabbing suitcase, and Riley hadn't been home in over six months. Something that made your chest heave and heart bleed to pieces haunted every missed phone call. It was more complicated than expected. Fear for him, perhaps wounded in a trench somewhere out there, thinking of the warmth of his beloved, clutching her handkerchief in his hand, wiping away a steamless blank tear with it. Maybe he should have listened to the warnings before?

Bitch!" - tears came, coming uncontrollably. The veranda served as a place for a smoke break and nostalgia. A crystal glass of dry wine longed with you. Tucking his wrist against his temple, that fucking cigarette, the Brit's favorite brand, dangled between his fingers. "What did I do wrong, Si? What did? Fuck." - You mumbled in a squelchy whisper, desperately wiping away the crying, inflamed swollen eyes. And that's when the cell phone buzzed in your pocket. A simple message about him cheating on you at the club two hours ago.

Your thumb rested on the next letter of the keyboard, the creak of the door and that familiar grunt reached my ears. You had to bite your tongue before he made his way into the garden, what would the asshole say now?

"Missed you." - He cut him off short, drawing her into the softness of his embrace. So gentle, but not like before. Finding out the bitter truth would be nothing but disgust and anger growing by degrees. With a grunt, his fingers spread across your lower back, pulling you closer, noticing that you didn't crave him as much as he craved you. His stern tone reprimanded you, the weight of his chin on the top of your head no longer pleasing-"You've been smoking again? I told you not to. Smoking is not good for you, little one."

Getting no answer, roughly taking her chin he read in her gaze all he had done. The dry laugh of mock naivety was replaced by a snarl. Sloppily, he rolled his eyes and ordered, "Smile. Keep your face simple, come on. You knew this would happen."