Based on true events.

He lay awake, next to her, sleeping soundly.
He was always jealous of her sleep. He never seemed to get enough while she got enough for the both of them.
It's 7:43am. He has work in 2 hours.
He hasn't slept a wink. He can't. Not with the thunderous storm of self-doubt and distrust raging in his brain.

~buzz buzz~

She has a message.

He grabs her phone off the nightstand and slinks out of bed. His thumb slides across the screen, her passcode seared into his muscle memory.

It's the other boy.
With another encouraging hedgehog.

His heart drops when he sees the name on her screen
He scrolls and scrolls

The other boy's flirting and she's encouraging it

His heart is racing. How long does this go on?

He's shaking. He doesn't remember when he started crying.

He closes her phone. His heart racing feels like it's going to pop in his throat.

He puts her phone back and climbs back in bed.

He clings to her back.

He's sobbing now.

She begins to stir.

"Wha-?" she asks, half-awake and confused.

"Please don't."

"What are you talking about?"

She's sitting up.
He's still clinging to her.

"Please-- don't do it-- again." He pleads in-between sobs

He's holding tighter

"Please don't cheat."

She glances at the clock.

"Babe, it's 8:30! Have you even slept?"

She slides out of his grip.
He's still sobbing.
She doesn't acknowlege it.

"You need to get to work! I gotta get some sleep so I can set up for the party."

The party.
The other boy will be there.

He'll be at work until late.

His breaths sharpen.
His heart beats faster.
He hold the bed.
He sobs louder.

"I can't go. He'll be here."

"Are you kidding me? You're just trying to get out of going to work."

Was he? He wasn't sure.
He went through her phone. That's not okay.

"I'm sorry."

"You need to go to work."

"He'll be here."

She raises her voice.

"Yeah, with his girlfriend. You're telling me you can't go to work because you can't trust me with friends who are all bringing their significant others? You're ridiculous."

That makes sense to his logical brain.
Why can't he tear himself from these sheets?
He doesn't understand why he's like this.
There's no reason for it.
She's right, right?
But he can't stop.
His voice is a damaged record.

"I can't go."

"Then I don't want your fucking friends here."

Now he's angry.

Now it's in prespective.
He grip tightens.
He starts shaking.
He stops sobbing.
He raises his head.
He heart beats louder than his voice in his ears.

"You're getting mad at me? I can't trust you! You cheated on me twice!"

She gasps. Stands up.
Puts her bottom lip out.
Her voice shakes.
Everything she does when she deflects guilt.

"How fucking dare you throw that at me? I feel so guilty about it and you're throwing it back at me! That's really not okay!"

"But it's okay to flirt with other people?"

She storms into the bathroom and shuts the door.

He checks the time.

9:30.

He's late for work.