It hurt me more than anything to realize that I couldn't blame him, even if he did that, because I was the one who betrayed him first. I left him without a word or farewell, running away from him as if he were the one who had done something wrong. Memories of our time together came back like waves. The fake honeymoon that we enjoyed together felt more real than anything, right at that moment. I remembered the way that he would laugh whenever he let his guard down on the nights when we enjoyed each other's company simply as our true selves, and the dangerous world outside and our identities didn't need to complicate things for us.