"I give you my word," she said, her broken voice like daggers on my heart, "Just like you did, when you said we were exclusive."

"Fucker!" I roared, landing another vicious blow to his stomach.

The f**ker kept trying.  "We were," he gasped.  "We are.  I never lied to you.  I tell you the truth about everything, even when it hurts, because I want you to trust me."

"You said you didn't date," she shot back, a new knot entering her voice, finally some anger to accompany the pain.  "That was a lie, since I met your date for tonight."

I cursed, slamming him into the wall.  "You bastard," I panted in his face.  "You swore to me that you wouldn't hurt her, but I haven't seen her this hurt since the last time her dad got his hands on her."

James went still, then limp, the fight gone out of him.  I didn't care.  I kept pushing.

The bastard.  I'd been so happy to see her finally falling for a guy that I'd pushed her towards it.  Towards this.

I wanted to hurt him.  I wanted to make him to bleed.  I knew I was just one degree away from losing it completely.

"Bianca, please, you can't just leave me.  Just agree to talk to me again, when you feel up to it.  I'll let you pick the time and place, but I can't just let you go without a fight."

"Fine, if you'll answer one question for me first."  Her voice was stronger now, though the tonelessness of it was worrisome in its own right.

"Anything," he agreed without hesitating.

"First, agree not to come near me, so Stephan can let you go."

"If that's what you want."

I didn't want to let him go.  In fact, I wanted to put my hands around his neck and start squeezing, but that desire let me know just how necessary it was for me to get away from him.

Abruptly, I let him go, and began to pace, one wary eye still on him, in case he tried to go near her.

With every step away from him, I realized how far I'd gone.  I felt sick.  I hated violence, but I couldn't seem to escape it; I was a violent man.

"You can come to my house Monday afternoon, at five.  We can speak then."  Her voice was firm and steady now.  And the more she calmed, the more I regretted losing my temper.

"Sooner, please," James had the nerve to press his advantage.  "Waiting until Monday will be pure torture."

She shook her head.  "No.  Monday.  Now answer my question."

He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets, looking as helpless as I felt.

"Have you f**ked Jules?"

"Yes," he answered.

My hands clenched into fists, and I nearly charged him again.

"But it's been a long time," he added.

"When?" Bianca prodded.

"A year, at least.  I'm not sure exactly how long."

"Was it just the one time?"  Her tone was pointed now.

He shut his eyes.  "No.  But it never meant anything, I swear."

"So you've been sleeping with her for years, and you were going on a date with her after I left tonight, and it didn't mean anything?" she questioned.

"I know it sounds bad, but it's not like that.  I've known her since high school, and our families have ties that go far back.  Her brother, Parker, is a close friend of mine.  And she is only a friend to me.  I swear it."

"But you obviously f**k your friends."  Her voice had gone flat, and I knew she was shutting him out.  At this point, she was just building up her case against him.

"Not anymore.  Anything I had with her means nothing.  It never did."

"And you've only known me for a week," she shot back.  "What does that say about us?"

She was done with him, I could tell.  I only worried what it had cost her to write him off so quickly.

He wasn't done trying to change her mind.  He didn't know her like I did.  It was a lost cause now.

"Please don't do that," he implored.  "It's different. We're different."

She turned her back on him.  "Please go.  I'll talk to you on Monday.  And please don't be on any of my flights.  If you are, I'll work in coach to get away from you."

He stared at her for the longest time, looking so desolate that I almost felt bad for him.

When he finally left, I went to her.  I bent down and cradled her into my arms, carrying her to bed.  I held her tight, feeling helpless.

When she started crying again, I couldn't stand it, I broke down with her.

But as she sobbed, I realized something.  She hadn't completely frozen him out yet.  She wouldn't be crying like her heart was breaking, if that were the case.

I didn't know what to think, what to hope for.  I couldn't tell from the conversation just how far James's betrayal had gone, and how much of it was a misunderstanding.

I felt disloyal for even questioning it, but I'd had such high hopes for them, for her, that it was hard to just let it go.

She didn't want to talk about it, and I didn't press the issue.

In fact, we barely spoke at all, but on the edge of sleep, when all of the energy had been sobbed out of both of us, I heard her quietly chanting, "You're okay, I'm okay, we're okay."

It broke my heart all over again.  I hadn't heard her fall back on that in years.