Alissa told herself all week that she needed to focus on her classes, so she waited until Friday. Friday came quicker than she had hoped.

She texted Marc,

Hey, can I stop by your place tonight? I have something to tell you.

Sure... What time?

5?

See you then.

The rest of the day went by painfully slow. Alissa felt like she was going to vomit. God, she hoped it wouldn't end badly. She still really cared for Marc. She had spent three years of her life with him. It was the longest relationship she had ever had.

She seriously didn't know what she was thinking when it came to Diego; at least, that's what she told herself. And she couldn't blame the alcohol, because the second time they met, she was sober. She teared up as her feet crunched on the packed snow sidewalk heading to Marc's house.

Alissa knocked on the front door and quickly wiped her tears away with her black cotton gloves. Tony, Marc's best friend, answered. His dark brown hair stuck in the air and he wore a t-shirt with Iron Man giving the bird. He had black basketball shorts on and Alissa wondered how he was warm with the frigid temperatures outside.

"Hey, Alissa. You're just in time. We got pizza." Tony greeted her.

She mustered a smile, "Hi, Tony. Is Marc in his room?"

Tony nodded and let her inside their five-bedroom apartment. The walls felt as if they were narrowing as she headed down the brown carpeted hall to Marc's bedroom at the end. She took a deep breath once she reached his door and braced herself for what was going to come next. She knocked.

"It's open," Marc replied.

Alissa pushed the door open and saw Marc writing furiously at his wooden desk. She closed the door behind her and sat on the foot of his blue bed. Marc turned his squeaky black desk chair around, facing her.

"So, what's up? What did you have to tell me?" he asked with that perfect face.

Too bad it was going to get crushed soon, she thought.

"I have to tell you two things." Her voice shook, "One—I lost my engagement ring last Friday night at the club."

She waited for a reaction.

"I was wondering why," he said, holding his hands together, "when we were at the diner, why you weren't wearing your ring. Why did you wait to tell me now?"

"Because I thought I could find it and you wouldn't even need to know it happened, but I can't find it at all." Her voice shook, again. "I'm going to check again this weekend, though."

"Oh, okay..." he trailed off.

"I'm so sorry." She looked at the blue carpet. "I was drunk and misplaced it. I'm so stupid." She started to tear up again.

Marc stood up and sat next to her on the bed, putting his arms around her shoulders and pulling her close.

"You're not stupid, baby. It's fine. We'll find it. Don't worry," he said in her ear.

"But it cost you so much. And how do you know we'll really find it?" she mumbled.

"It's fine, baby. Just try to stay positive." He rubbed her back and she leaned her head in the nook of his neck.

"So, what was number two?" he asked curiously.

Fuck, now I really had to do it, she thought. Her stomach pushed itself up onto her lungs. She couldn't breathe and was about to vomit. She stood, facing him, took a deep breath, and looked down at the carpet.

"Uh—number two was that I cheated on you," she said quickly with her head facing toward the ground.

"What? You mumbled."

She groaned, "I cheated on you."

The tears continued to pour and she kept her gaze on the carpet, scared to look up and see what his reaction was.

"You—cheated on me?" his voice cracked. Marc's eyebrows were raised so high numerous amounts of wrinkles formed on his forehead. His mouth opened and stayed in a small circle.

"I'm so, so, so sorry, Marc." Her throat was as drier than the heat circulating in the air. She swallowed. "I understand if you hate me and never wanna talk to me again." She slowly looked up.

His turquoise eyes showed so much pain. Alissa's ribs began to shake with sobs.

Marc took a shaky breath, "Please get out."

She looked at him speechlessly, wiped her eyes, and slowly left his room. As she opened the front door, she heard something crash and a huge bang, making the door vibrate. She quickly closed the front door behind her.

He hates me. she texted Catherine.

Alissa, he doesn't hate you. He's just angry. Maybe some time would be good to let him sort out his emotions and figure out how he's going to handle this.

I guess so. I would hate myself if I were him.

Alissa, you're being too hard on yourself. At least you told him. Most cheaters don't tell. Honey, you did good.

Thanks.

Alissa eventually made her way back to her apartment after the excruciatingly frigid and long walk. She trudged up the stairs straight to her bedroom.