"If he was that kind of guy, I would have dumped him long ago," Faye frowned, nose wrinkling at the thought. Not a girl who saw herself as needing or necessarily even wanting a guy on her arm to begin with— not since she woke up those couple of years before, mind blissfully free of memories— Faye knew that she wouldn't have tolerated a guy who planned on ducking out on her at the first sign of trouble.

Not just because that was the mark of a coward, but also because Faye knew that if someone else ran, she'd run herself in the opposite direction.

Sighing, Faye allowed some of the stress and frustration to bleed free as she walked to the nearest table, sliding to a seat and threading her fingers automatically through her hair. "I don't know what there is really to say," she remarked, brow knit. "We... didn't use protection? I'm pretty sure it was the Mardi Gras party. Being an idiot, I wore a dress I knew he wouldn't be able to turn down. We didn't make it back to the hut; he took me up into this, like, hayloft."