There is nothing lonelier than waking up alone in the bed you fell asleep in with his arms wrapped around you.

She sits up, holding the soft white sheets tight around her as she stumbles out of bed. Where is he? He promised.

"Kyle?" It takes Ellie a minute to gain her balance. "Kyle…"

She remembers his exact words from the night before: Go to sleep. I'll be right by your side when you wake up.

Promise, Ellie had insisted, realizing how badly she wanted to hope he was right.

I promise, Ellie.

There is a familiar wetness in her eyes when she sees the note. It sits on her dresser, where the last note was. And the one before that.

With one hand keeping a hold on the comforter, she picks up the note and reads it aloud. "Ellie, I'm sorry I had to leave. I know what I said last night, but she called this morning. She's starting to suspect things, so I might not make it tonight. Love you…Kyle."

The piece of paper flutters to the ground, and Ellie just stands still for a moment. As if that door will open and he will step in, telling her he's asked for a divorce, telling her that she will finally win this never-ending game.

But Ellie knows this will not happen. Because no matter how much she loves Kyle, he still loves her. His wife.

Somehow, she makes her way back to her bed, laying face down in the pillows he had spread her hair across just a few days ago. Or weeks. She doesn't know anymore.

-

He arrives two days later, at ten-thirty in the night. When she opens the door, they are both in each other's arms again, and everything feels wrong and exhilarating and beautiful at the same time. It doesn't take long for her to say, "I forgive you," to his earlier written apology.

When he smiles, everything is all right. "I'm glad."

"I haven't been able to sleep at all," she says to him a while later, when he has her leaned against the kitchen countertop.

"Me neither," Kyle says absently, running his hands over her again.

They haven't spoken about her yet. So Ellie suddenly pushes him off of her. "Wait, stop."

She has to press her palms against his chest to get him to focus. "What?" he finally asks, his voice urgent. She wishes he would slow down sometimes. Just let her in.

"Did you do it?"

Ellie doesn't miss the flicker of guilt in his eyes. "Well, I…yes."

This comes as a surprise. "You did?"

"Sort of."

She sighs. "You didn't."

Kyle puts his hands on the counter now, and Ellie feels strangely trapped. Boxed in. She never felt like that with him. He was supposed to be her protector, not her captor.

"It isn't that easy, Ell. You've never been part of a marriage. She just doesn't want to accept that I don't feel the same way about her anymore—doesn't want to let go, and…" He trails off, and her chest stabs with pain.

"And neither do you," she finishes for him.

His eyes flash up to meet hers. "What?"

"You still love her, I can tell." She gently pushes his arm out of the way, which is a simple task now that he seems to have lost all energy. "I have missed you so much, Kyle. You're never here. Ever."

"I was here last night," he protests.

Ellie shakes her head. "Two nights ago. And even then, you had to leave."

"What do you want from me?" Kyle snaps at her, losing his temper. "Why do you have to be such a girl about everything? This isn't high school, Ellie. She isn't the cheerleader and you're not the sad, ignored girl who wins over my attention. This is real life."

Her breath catches, but there is no way she is backing down. "Kyle, somehow you've forgotten that you aren't the quarterback on the football team here. There are plenty other fish in the sea. If this is your ego, then combined with your cheating history, I really don't want to see more."

She spins around, happy with her final decision—at least for the moment.

But his hand wraps around her wrist, comforting her and drawing her nearer to him. "Hey, whoa. I'm sorry. I'm under a lot of stress. I…I miss you, too."

"I don't miss you," she tells him immediately, motivated by the thought that this fire, this sudden burst of resolve, will disappear soon. "I miss what I thought I felt for you."

And with that she turns and runs, knowing that he's already seen her cry enough times.

-

As ashamed as she would be to admit it, she waits.

Ever since he left that day, after she'd run off to her room and locked him out of her life, she hasn't slept. Her stomach is filled with…something. Not butterflies; more like a cinderblock. Sometimes her eyes leak tears without her notice. Sometimes she stares at the phone and hopes he'll call her to apologize just one more time.

Sometimes she imagines him with her, and then her head spins and she needs to breathe deeply or else she's sure she'll throw up.

Ellie closes her eyes now, willing herself to fall asleep again. Sleep is blissful in that way: it'll keep you safe from the horrors of your life. Well, for the most part. At times they'll find a way into even your sleep. She didn't dream at all for the first week. But soon enough, he was with her there as well, and she woke crying.

However, this time, before she can drift off into the land of either peace or nightmares, the phone actually does ring. She pinches herself to make sure it's real, and then she walks over to answer it.

"Hello?" she says; her voice sounds raw.

"Hi—yeah, who is this?"

The voice on the other end of the line is the loud, gum-chewing type of voice. The type of sound you generally associate with the women on The View or ladies who wear loads of red lipstick and carry giant purses.

"Um," Ellie says, her brain not functioning. "I'm Ellie."

"Oh, okay. Ellie?"

"Yes?"

And suddenly, she knows who it is. Because there is a reason that cinderblock in her stomach suddenly reappears. There is a reason her face is now streaming with tears and makeup from forever ago.

"Stop calling my husband, yeah?"

Ellie squeezes her eyes shut. She wants to say something witty, something bright, something…high school. But instead the word of defeat, "Okay," makes its way out of her mouth, and she drops the phone back onto the receiver.

And she climbs back into bed.

-

AN: Just a one-shot I wrote a long time ago and dug up today. If you managed to read it within the first five hours of me uploading it, I have to apologize for the technical difficulties...FictionPress wasn't exactly cooperating. :P Thanks for reading!