Of course.

It was unmistakable, the sight you were seeing right before your very eyes. Even if you wanted to deny it. There he was, your boyfriend of almost half a decade, making out with his ex in a hotel lobby. The ex he "outgrew". The ex who was engaged. The ex who broke his heart so badly, you had to pick him up off the floor of a bar far more times than was respectable for either of you.

Nevermind all that! Here he was, leaving the hotel lobby with his hand in hers, phone that you were oh-so-conveniently tracking set on silent in the pocket of his jeans. He'd said he was going out to find something to eat. Somehow, you'd known that something was going to be located between Tashi Duncan's perfect thighs.

It had been setting itself up for weeks, this little rendezvous you were currently witnessing. The phone turned face down on his nightstand, the way he'd "subtly" started bringing her name back into your conversations, and finally, the tournament that he just happened to find in Atlanta. Oh, and the excuse he'd come up with to stay in Atlanta after he'd floundered in the second round, losing in line with what his stats had been looking like lately. "It's just a coincidence, babe." was a line you were getting very tired of hearing from him.

So, okay, yes, you'd tracked him. Clearly there was a reason to. A reason that your gut told you to get up and follow him. A reason that- Jesus, were they getting into the backseat of your car? You had half a mind to find her fiance and give them a taste of their own medicine. Hey, maybe later. For now, though?

You walked up to the car, parked in a dim alley, the windows already slightly fogged, and tapped on a back window. Surprise! Out came Patrick, hands already out in defense. "Please, babe- oh God, it's not what it looks like!" Sure.