"What?" My high pitched alarm sounded off the cement walls surrounding us. "You're married?" I instantly regretted shedding my tears.

"I was married."

"Wow, who gives a damn about tense. You never thought to bring that up?"

"I'm bringing it up now."

The amount of angst I felt was nearly ineffable. "Unfuckingbelievable."

"I told you I needed time."

"For what, Quincy? To tell your convict of a wife that you have a dumb ass mistress?"

"That's fair." He leaned forward and cupped his face with trembling hands.

I shook my head, suddenly not giving a damn about his anxiety or his presence. I sat there, absorbing the immensity of my absolute stupidity. No one, not even the amazing Quincy Winters was perfect, but a wife, a convict? I never saw that coming.

__________________________

I don't remember how I made it home or when I pulled out every box that I packed and sprawled every memory of Michael that I owned onto the guest room floor. I ignored calls from Marley, blocked Quincy and sat in a sea of sorrow with wine in one hand and oxy's in the other. I was devastated, broken, confused, and I no longer wanted to feel. This was why I didn't want to let go. This was all of my nightmares exposed and my dreams shattered. I didn't know Quincy. I knew Michael.

Quincy gutted me, but Michael left me behind to pick up the pieces of a life I would never really have. Banging my fist, tightened around four pills against my head. I literally beat myself for having the audacity to let go of my pain. This time, it returned with new found strength and began pulling me into the depths that only denial could cure. I rocked, moaned and wished for reprieve, but it wasn't to come, but Quincy did. Just as I tossed the pills into my mouth and gulped down my wine, he flung open the bedroom door.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

He stood, staring at me as though in awe of the emotional devastation he caused. Without the decency of a response, he crossed the room, then dropped to his knees in front of me. All I could do was laugh. We were both idiots.

"Dana, you don't have to do this."

"What? Find a way to cope after you drop a bomb and blow up my damn life again?"

"You left before I could explain."

"And you're wasting your time if you think you can explain now. Leave my damn key, and get the hell out of my life."

"I can't. I won't leave you like this."

"You don't have a choice."

In my rush to stand, my feet slid across the scattered pictures circled around me. Quincy broke my fall,  then lifted me to carry me out of the room. By the time he reached my bed, I had no fight left as he gently laid me down. I cried as he covered me, then leaned in to whisper, "I love you, Dana," before switching off my bedside lamp, then closing the door as he disappeared into the shadows.

My room was still dark when I woke. I could hear mumbling from outside my door, but my head echoed too much for me to move. When the door eased open, I quickly closed my eyes. Whoever it was, I didn't care to speak. The aromas of coffee and turkey bacon enticed my hunger, dampening my willpower to feign sleep.

"Good morning." I heard.

Quincy smiled from across the room.

Screw him.

"Just hung up from Marley. She's on her way over. I'll leave when she gets here."

Marley?

The room spun as I raised my back towards the headboard. "How long was I out?"

"Nearly a day and a half." He answered.

"Why are you here?"

"I wasn't going to leave you alone, especially like that."

"Like what? In the shitty state of mind you created?"

His shoulders slumped as he crossed the room and took a seat along the edge of my bed. "I can never apologize enough for not telling you about Cheyenne."

"That doesn't matter now, does it?"

"It does. The last thing I ever intended to do was hurt you."

I chomped on bacon and sipped coffee. The entire time, feeling nothing.

"Well, now that your conscious is clean, thanks for breakfast and goodbye."

"Dana."

"I'm done, Quincy. Really. There's nothing more to be said."

The moment he left the room, I jumped out of bed, grabbing my phone on the way to the toilet. Marley didn't pick up after several attempts to reach her. I took the time to shower and make myself feel something like a human being again, proud for only crying once. When I finally decided to leave the comfort of my bedroom, the first thing I noticed was the house was quiet. Feeling drained, but pleased, I shuffled down the hall to make sure Quincy had left my key.

"Oh shit." I shouted when I rounded the corner to my living room.

"Oh good. You're done." Marley looked the way I felt, grimacing ever so slightly as she sat upright on the couch.

"What the hell are you doing out of the hospital?'

"As long as you have a pulse these days, you're cleared to go home. I didn't want to be there anyway."

"But you shouldn't be here."

Chuckling, she replied. "Two Broke Girls has a different meaning now, doesn't it?"

She motioned for me to sit next to her. When I did, she leaned onto my shoulder and sighed. We lingered in an impregnated silence, enjoying the peace surrounding us before venturing to the turmoil within.

She declared. "You can't go back."

"I wasn't planning on it. Quincy and I are no more."

"I'm not talking about Quincy. I'm talking about you reverting back to depressed Dana."

"I haven't been depressed. I've been hurt. There's a difference."

"How you handle both are the same." Marley announced. "And that concerns me."

"Well, I'll be fine either way."

"Not from what I saw in your guest room." She muttered.

I sighed, then asked the question needed to keep me calm. "Did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That he's married."

"He's no longer married, Dana. And before he called to explain why you made a scene, then bolted from the hospital, I had no idea he ever was. I've never seen any reference of a wife online or heard anything different from how he presented himself to you."

"How can that be? A man of his status has a wife, behind bars no less, and no one knows about her?"

"Status breeds silence, I guess. But he's not married, not now anyway."

"That doesn't dismiss his actions."

"True, but neither does it yours. You've done nothing but treat that man like a yo-yo. I wouldn't have told your emo ass anything either, at  least until I knew for sure you wouldn't lose your shit, which you did."

"You're defending him?"

"Nope, I'm talking about you, and neither of you are perfect by the way. No relationship is without its share of bullshit, but you can't expect him to be something to you that you haven't even been to yourself, and that's completely honest."

"You are defending him."

"How do you know that if you haven't even allowed the man to explain himself?"

"He's a liar. That's all I need to know."

"He's in love with you. Stop justifying your fear of that. Yes, he screwed up. We all do. At least allow him the opportunity to explain before you write him off and end up drowning yourself in pills and wine. And it's selfish as hell, but I can't take going through that with you, not again. Not when you're so close –"

Her voice faded.

"Close to what?" I asked, staring at the top of her head.

"Nothing. I need a nap. Are you going back to bed?"

"No." I mumbled as Marley eased from the couch and cautiously paced down the hall. "You better call him before I come back."

"I won't."

"You will because after putting up with you for all this time, he deserves it, and you do too."

I wasn't going to call, no matter what Marley said. Instead, I began searching for my key. Not finding it near the door, I ventured into the kitchen where I also came up empty.

"Fuck it." I grabbed a bottle of wine and made a beeline towards the guest room. The moment I opened the door, I was filled with regret. "Shit, what have you done?" I scolded myself  as I gazed around the chaotic space.

The least he could've done was to make the bed since he appeared to have slept in it. Growing more annoyed by the second. I tossed the unopened bottle of wine onto the bed, startled by a clunk the moment it landed. I pulled back the cover, and gasped. My hands shook as I dialed Quincy's number. We needed to have a conversation. When he didn't answer, I unblocked him and text.

You have a lot of explaining to do, now.

His rapid response.

On my way.