"Baby, please," Andre pleads, hand catching your wrist as he spins you back round, sucking air in from between gritted teeth.

You don't know how the hell he thinks he's gonna get out of this—he's been sneaking around with Cate behind your back for weeks. Months, maybe, even; you've got no fucking clue. No wonder he hasn't been returning your texts. No wonder.

"Can we just—talk about it, babe?" He insists, panic lighting up his face as he sees you leaving. You can't leave—he still needs you; as selfish as that is.