One of these days I swear I'm gonna get out

He just couldn't get his head around her.

One minute, she loved him, the next, she was apologising again.
The stupid bitch. She drank too much. She knew it was all her fault that everything was falling apart.

Hell, he made sure she knew.

He didn't drink like she did. He liked to stay in control.
She had to sort herself out.
She was his, and if she continued the way she'd been acting...

Yet she insisted he was too jealous.
Well, who the fuck did she think she was?
She never got jealous when he talked to anyone. She never even seemed to show she cared until they were together at home.

Every other time it was, "I don't like making a fuss in public," or, "Jenna said she just wanted it to be a girls' night."

Her friends.

They were the worst.

They sowed the seeds in her head.
They were happy until her friends started making comments.
That he wasn't good for her. That she deserved better. All their snarky little comments were ruining everything.
They had no idea what was good for her.
They didn't know what she was like.
They didn't know how she needed to be treated.

She tried to leave him once before, but he made her see.
Made her see that she loved him.
That no one else would love her.
That she was damn lucky he even put up with her.

No other man would put up with her flirtatious personality.
He'd seen her smiling at other men. Laughing with them.
She even called a couple of them her 'best friends.'

Well, now that made no fucking sense.
She was supposed to love him.
He was her best friend.
He was the one she came to when she screwed everything up, when no one wanted her, when they didn't understand her.

He knew she wouldn't leave him.
She couldn't.
They were in love.