Tears filled her eyes when she came to a stop in front of the now closed diner she and Matt used to have Sunday brunch in when they were home. She fought to keep the tears from spilling down her face, but lost the battle and choked on a sob.

If only things could go back to how there were a few years ago, when she and Matt were happy. He swore that he loved her, that she was the only woman for him. Then one night she walked into their house to find Matt and some bubbly, buxom brunette on the couch. She walked out the door without a word, but Matt followed, apologizing and swearing that was the first and last time it would ever happen. It wasn't.

Amy sighed in relief as she entered the house and the heat hit her. She tossed her sweatshirt on the back of the couch and sat down. She knew Matt wasn't home. He was out with some other ring rat, she had no doubts about that. He'd be back later that night drunk and falling all over himself.

At first she just figured he liked to party with friends, but she soon learned that the "guys" weren't always guys. She forgave him at first, but now....he came home reeking of cheap perfume and cheap alcohol almost every night that they were home and she just couldn't take it anymore. She had put too many years of her life into the relationship for him to treat her this way.

She walked up the stairs to their bedroom and pulled her suitcase out of the bottom of the closet. This is it. I won't take this anymore. I'm leaving tonight. She grabbed handfuls of clothing, not even bothering to fold them and stuffed them into her suitcase. I can't believe I let things get this bad.

You know that you're not going to leave him. The voice at the back of her mind made her choke on a sob. It was right, of course. She wouldn't have the strength to actually leave and stay away from Matt. He would make up some reason that he needed her and she would go running back to him. That's the way it always worked.

Amy dragged her suitcase to the front hall, still determined to leave. She heard the sound of a car pull into the driveway and went to the window to see who it was. She saw Matt stumbling out of a cab and up the walkway. She sighed and prepared to leave, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to just walk out. Matt tripped over his own feet and tumbled to the ground. Amy threw open the door and ran to him, helping him up. The stench of his night's escapade hit her and she groaned inwardly, trying not to get sick all over him.

"Come on," she mumbled. "Let's get you to bed." Matt muttered something unintelligible as she half walked half dragged him up to their room. She got him into bed and sat beside him as he sunk into a deep sleep that large amounts of alcohol always induces. When she was sure he was sound asleep so went back down to the living room.

She gazed at her bags longingly and then glanced up the steps in the direction of the bedroom. She flopped onto the couch with her face in her hands and cried. She knew she should go, but she just couldn't. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she sat rocking and crying.