Soap and you had broken up months ago. Something about his work, him not loving you enough to live for you. He couldn't believe it. Him? Not loving you? What a joke.

He spent the following months focusing on anything else but you. Alcohol, work, friends, hookups. But that ache didn't go. Why was he still holding onto somebody who had already let him go?

He asked that same question when he dialed your number, lonely in a shitty motel. "Pick up, doll.." He huffed, running a hand down his face.