Keith often finds himself strangely inspired when it's late at night. Whether it's writing or just looking at some dumb idea on Pinterest, his mind runs wild with ideas. He'd find himself clutching his pillow late at night and peering over the top of the fabric to glance at his phone. It wasn't new, this had been a thing of Keith's for a while, and he knew exactly where he got it from.

No it wasn't a blood thing (or at least he hopes not. He hated his birth family. They gave him up so young, he had no desire to know them at all), and it wasn't something he'd picked up from his roommate because Pidge was too absorbed in tech for creativity.

It was a boy named Lance. He was a small time beauty vlogger who was sleeping just down the hall right now. Lance didn't know Keith's name, he had no time for anyone who wasn't Hunk or a makeup palette. Lance would never know how captivated Keith was by him. Keith would watch his videos and stalk his Instagram and aspire to be perfect like him.

But the problem was, Lance was annoying as hell. He was cocky and full of shit. He couldn't sing and he flirted with every girl on campus. There was an endless list of problems Lance had, but Keith put all those aside when he saw his digital self.

Keith aspired to be willing to wear makeup even though he was a guy. He wished he was brave enough to pose in front of a camera for an Instagram post. Online Lance and School Lance were different people, even Keith knew that. Online Lance was an idol. School Lance was a prick. Keith frowned.

"Are you thinking about Lance again." Keith snapped his attention to Pidge. Her legs were kicked up on the table and she was browsing mindlessly on the internet. She passed as a guy just so her and Keith could room together.

"He's a prick," Keith spat. Pidge laughed, short and manic.

"You love Lance."

"I love his Instagram. It's pretty, my Instagram is not. So what, I want to be at that same level of organization. Lance is a prick. Selfish prick."

"You don't even know the guy, Keith." Pidge was right. Keith didn't know the guy, but he knew the stories of the guy. The name Lance around campus was like acid on everyone's lips. And what made it even worse was that Lance could care less. He flaunted himself still like there was no tomorrow.

"Sure," was Keith's only reply.

"Go to sleep," Pidge said mindlessly. "I will take that phone out of your hand." Keith rolled over and set his phone on the window sill. He didn't even hesitate. The only thing appealing about Lance was his digital self.

Prick

Next Day

Keith sat at his lecture, tapping his pen on the desk. His anger from last night had faded. He had just changed classes and he hoped this wasn't nearly as boring as the class he traded out of.

His feet kicked the desk under him distantly. He was tired. His elbow was pressed to the cold surface of the desk to help support his head which was slouched lazily in his palm. The air conditioning made the room cold. The students chattered mindlessly around him. Keith was such an outlier. Everyone around him had at least one person talking with them, and then there was him doodling mindlessly in his journal.

The door slammed loudly with a loud chorus of calls towards whoever just walked in. Keith didn't care. Wait. Keith didn't care until he saw who it was. He watched Lance walk in and stop to talk with whoever was sitting near the door. Keith scoffed.

"Asshole." He mumbled. Keith convinced himself he didn't care. A single boy couldn't have this much control over him. Keith just wished he could pinpoint the reason why this boy made him grit his teeth.

"New face. Hey mullet." Lance looked up to see Lance smirking sideways at him. Asshole. Keith exhaled through the corner of his mouth and ignored him. He was gone soon enough, but Keith still felt ticked off. His mullet wasn't on purpose, it just grew out because he hadn't taken much care into cutting it. Mullets were intentional and out of style and lame.

Keith closed his eyes, headache ridden. It wasn't Lance, it was everyone. It was their presence that pissed him off until he looked clearly unapproachable. Then there was music, which made everything even worse. It was dumb, easily identified as Britney Spears. Keith sighed, happy when the professor stepped in.

"Hey," he felt a tap on his shoulder. He removed his head from his hand and looked up right into a pair of piercing blue eyes. "Can I sit next to you?" Lance asked.

"Sit wherever you want." The chair squeaked as Lance sat down in it, his almost nonexistent weight rocking it. Keith instead crossed his arms on the desk against his chest and cocked his head the other way.

"You're the unapproachable type aren't you, that's why you have no friends." Keith scrunched his eyebrows together.

"I do too have friends!" he whisper yelled, turning to face Lance. Somehow anger bubbled up in him. Lance watched him, eyes glittering as if he enjoyed breaking Keith apart.

"Oh yeah?" Keith sighed and looked away again.

"Of course." He could see the glitter of Lance's teeth from the corner of his eyes.

"Like who?"

"Like Pidge." Keith scolded himself inside. Such a dumb thing to say. What did it matter anyways?

"Pidge, huh? Sounds fake." Keith burst out in anger.

"Of course not! She's my roommate and she's very real." Keith's words didn't register for quite some time. Lance's mouth was open in a cocky 'o' and he watched as if what Keith was saying was even vaguely interesting. One eyebrow was raised. Prick.

Keith just tried to ignore him for the rest of the lecture, and then hurry out right after. Lance's presence made him sweaty and uncomfortable, maybe the way sitting next to someone you hated should feel. He always sat with his chest puffed out like a soldier and and eye droopy like a wet rag. Keith was almost certain Lance passed just because he was semi-famous and pretty, but he hardly applied himself. He probably didn't give half a shit about his studies.

"Hey! Mullet! You dropped something!" Keith breathed deeply, trying to compose his anger. He spun on his heels to find Lance hurrying down the white marble steps holding the corner of Keith's black journal by his shoulder. He was all leg and little body, so he looked a bit like a floppy noodle sprinting down the stairs. He watched his feet like he would trip if he didn't. His unbuttoned over shirt flew behind him as he sprinted, his bag colliding with his back after the impact of every step of his crisp white converse against the stairs. Keith's face calmed. "Sorry, I tried to catch you sooner." If Keith didn't know any better, Lance was out of breath. Keith smirked, amused.

"Thanks Lance." Lance smiled and snapped his fingers.

"No problem. Also, I saw your bucket list." Keith's smile contorted and his face flushed red. "'Drunk star tripping' 'laser tag make out' really, you're a hopeless romantic." Keith checked his breathing. He wrote some stupid stuff down on that list, but those were two of the three he wanted to do the most.

"Why did you look?" Lance shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Keith resisted the urge to slap him.

"It was open like that when you dropped it." Keith scoffed, thankful those seemed to be the only two Lance had read.

"Whatever. Thanks again." Keith held the journal up and twisted his wrist a few times, indicating what exactly he was thanking Lance for. He smiled forcibly and turned around. He only got a few more steps before hearing his nickname again.

"Mullet, why do you hate me? Cause I'm prettier than you?" Keith sighed, exasperatedly. Nobody was wrong when they talked about how unpleasant Lance's presence was. Lance was a handful, maybe even two.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lance," Keith called over his shoulder. Lance was by his side in an instant, arms crossed.

"So why do you want to photograph someone you hate?"

"What?" Keith blurted. He stopped and spun to face Lance. Lance's pout turned to a sly grin.

"Item three. Photograph for Lance's Instagram." Keith ran a hand through his hair, begging some sort of interruption to tear this conversation up.

"At first it was because I am a photographer and I liked your Instagram. Now I'm rethinking it because you're a prick." Lance smile faltered like Keith's words hurt. For a second, Keith wondered if he'd taken it too far. Maybe he was being too rude.

"I do need a photographer. I won't throw you away when I get famous." Keith rolled his eyes, no longer worrying about being rude.

"If I say no will you piss off so I can get to my next class?" Keith started walking but was soon stopped again by a hand around his arm.

"W-wait!" Lance's fingers were long and thin, and almost fully wrapped around Keith's arm. "Please do it! It will be fun. I might even help you on that bucket list." Keith almost threw up in his mouth at the thought of getting drunk with Lance.

"Ew, definitely not-"

"Okay, maybe not. Just kidding. Please do it." Keith sighed. Maybe he should do it. Besides, he loved Online Lance, right? Lance would fuck off if he agreed.

"I'll think about it," Keith said. Lance smiled brightly, a sweet innocent smile.

"Your the best. Good luck in class!" Lance took off in a sprint to the next building over. Keith took a long breath, unnerved by that interaction. He never was a big fan of talking, and he was much better at it when he was being rude. Whatever. He just looked forward to watching Star Wars and ordering pizza with Pidge later.

Classes were quiet without Lance to bug him. Without Lance asking him dumb questions every five seconds, he could breathe. There was space. He wasn't sweaty and uncomfortable anymore.

He still felt dumb for even saying he's consider the offer. Lance was such a brat, he couldn't work with him! That's crazy! Keith would always be so mad at Lance for being, well... Lance.

Keith begged to whatever God might be resting in the sky for him to not run into Lance at the dorms. Not in the hall, not in the stairs, not in the shower. He wanted a peaceful night with Pidge. That would probably mean staying up until three am just to take his shower. He kept his attention towards the door and nowhere else as his feet quickened on the red and brown brick.

Quickly, he slipped through the crack in the door and sprinted up the stairs to the third floor. Keith didn't know why he was running, Lance could be pinpointed from a mile away and he obviously wasn't in the dorms. You'd hear his cackle echoing through the staircase. Keith slowed and pushed open the door. His eyes were a little blurry, so he ran right into someone at the top of the staircase.

"Sorry," he mumbled. Then he realized there was a whole crowd of people on the third floor. When Keith was tired, he needed his glasses to help him see, but he left them in the dorm room.

"I can handle my own stuff thank you!" a high pitched voice called. It was Pidge. Suddenly, Keith had an idea. He pushed through the people breathlessly before he was met with a handful of people taking Pidge's stuff down the hall. Pidge had her computer by her feet while she watched, her foot tapping as though she was making sure everyone was handling things right.

"Woah woah, Pidge, what's happening." Keith walked slowly to Pidge, hands in his hoodie pocket. He was very aware of the eyes on him, piercing him like daggers. Keith ignored it.

"They found out Pidge Gunderson was Katie Holt." Keith sighed. He leaned against the wall next to Pidge. She looked much less angry than sad, her big eyes quivering behind her glasses.

"No more Mario Kart," Keith mumbled.

"No more Star Wars."

"No more pizza."

"Or Chinese." Keith heard Pidge sniff. "I don't like the other girls, Keith. They're annoying and obsessed with makeup and boys." Pidge rested her head on Keith's arm. "I don't want leave you." Keith smiled softly. In your face, Lance.

"Hey, it'll be okay. We still have some classes together, it could be worse." Pidge wasn't much of a crier, and she wasn't now, but Keith could tell she was holding back. She really didn't want to leave and that warmed Keith's heart knowing he had a friend. "Pidge, you'll be okay. I know you can handle yourself." They stayed in silence while the room was being evacuated of Pidge's stuff.

Keith took this time to scan who was watching. He didn't know many of their names, he knew faces. He saw Shiro towards the back leaning against the window. The rest of the boys were scattered in Keith's classes. Lance was at the very front, leaning against the wall and staring Keith down. Keith shivered and looked back at the last box being rolled out.

"Katie, your dorm assignment and roommate. Next year, don't try to room with your boyfriend." Keith snorted.

"Pidge is not my girlfriend-"

"Keith is not my boyfriend." Then they met eyes and laughed. "That would be funny."

"Yeah. You would be a terrible girlfriend."

"Take a look in the mirror Keith." Keith scrunched up his nose, a smile plastered on his face.

"Are we going to become one of those annoying friends who yell 'Hey Best Friendddd' at each other on campus?" Keith laughed.

"Sure Pidge. See you around." Keith waved as Pidge walked down the hall with her box of computers. At one point the man next to her tried to take it but she jerked it to her side and shook her head. Keith laughed, he could picture her saying, "I can handle my own stuff thank you!" Keith ran a hand through his hair and looked back into his dorm, one side empty and lopsided. His head gradually tipped to the side. He didn't want to go in, it would feel so empty without Pidge, his one friend. A different man returned, a portly one in a tweed jacket that looked like a cartoon car seller, walked in. When he spoke, his voice was nasally and annoying.

"I've heard about the rooming problems. Lance, you're going to take Pidge's place with Keith and Shiro, if you wouldn't mind since you're a single roomer, take Lance's spot with Hunk." Keith was expecting an outburst from Lance but there wasn't one. Instead he sighed and dropped his head, swinging around the doorframe into his room. Shiro headed into his own room too. "As much as I love an audience, I would like to ask you to please retreat to your dorms." The group of boys scattered, unwanted chatter filling Keith's ears.

He wanted to yell at every single one of them. Pidge wasn't his girlfriend, Pidge was his best friend. Pidge was always there when Keith was fuming, Pidge was always ready to hear stories, perching on her bed and leaning forward on her hands as if what Keith had to say was interesting. Once the crowd passed, he stepped into his room, an empty feeling in his gut.

He sat down to read, figuring Lance would take a while with his seemingly endless amount of things. The book wasn't interesting, it was something for chemistry that Ms. Bradley wanted him to read. Ms. Bradley was really kind. She had a wife and always was sure to give Keith a daily dose of love. She knew about Keith's parent situation. Keith shivered, thinking of the possible conversations he'd have with Lance. He's have to explain how he was an orphan and how his only known relative was in Korea. Needless to say, Keith had to reread that page many times.

There was a loud click and the voices from outside were muffled. When Keith looked up, Lance was standing there, oblivious to Keith drowning in pillows in the corner of his bed. He had some lights in his hands, but Keith already had some hanging. He had some posters rolled up and dangling precariously from his bag. He only had two suitcases, some empty under bed storage, and a duffel bag which had a top layer of art supplies. Lance was honestly confused at this. Keith brought more than Lance, and Keith didn't have a lot to begin with.

"That's a surprise," Keith said. Lance jumped at the sudden voice and his posters fell off his bag. He smiled sheepishly and set one bag down to pick up the posters.

"What is?" Lance asked, setting the lights down on the desk.

"You brought so little." Lance laughed, but that seemed to strike a chord in him.

"I don't have everything, Keith." He called him by his name. Keith blinked. Was this Lance McClain? The prick from class who knows about his bucket list? The one who's so self absorbed and only cares for themselves. Keith nodded and looked back at his book. Keith didn't read, he instead watched Lance over the top of his book as he took out several things and rested them neatly on the surface of his bed. Very few of his shirts had tags, maybe tags irritated Lance or something. Lance had almost taken everything from his bags except one thing. He watched the bag and then looked at Keith. Keith looked down at his book, face turning red.

Lance pushed the duffel bag with the remaining item under the desk with a loud sweeping noise. Keith was a bit surprised by Lance and he decided to go shower. He told Lance this quickly and got ready to leave the room, a set of neatly folded pajamas and towel in his hands. Lance spun around and Keith stopped, expecting something. When Lance opened his mouth, Keith's defense immediately came down. His eyebrows furrowed together and he slouched on one hip expectantly.

Lance seemed to read Keith's expression and closed his mouth before asking one simple, dumb question. "Is that your favorite color?" He pointed towards the stack in Keith's hands that consisted of a mustard yellow towel and red sweatpants with a black shirt.

"Red and yellow, yeah." Lance smiled.

"Those are good colors." Lance seemed humble for a moment, turning back around to put some hooks on the wall to hang up his lights.

"What's your favorite color?" Keith asked, watching Lance stand on his bed to thread the lights through the current hooks.

"Blue." He said simply. Keith nodded and tucked that deep in his mind, walking out the door into the hall.

"Keith!" someone called. No one on the hall knew his name. Er, maybe everyone knew his name now. He turned around to find Hunk walking up slowly. "Hey, take care of Lance, will ya?" Keith turned fully around now to face Hunk.

"Why? He seems perfectly capable of taking care of himself." Hunk laughed, his eyes shutting.

"Yeah, well... that's not entirely true. Don't believe everything you hear." Keith just wanted the awkwardness to end.

"Yeah, sure Hunk." Hunk laughed triumphantly, and began to turn.

"Thanks Keith. You're the best." Keith walked into the bathroom quickly, his face flushing red from the heat. There were a whole bunch of shirtless men, and despite Keith being gay, he still didn't find any of them attractive. He was just really selective. Most girls would kill to be in his position right now and most guys would kill to have a girlfriend who can stay in a dorm with them for almost a month before getting caught. Keith thought of the wonderland a girl might be right now as he stepped into a freed up shower.

He hung his clothes on the rack and stepped into the shower, still running with warm water. Keith sighed and felt the steady stream loosen his muscles that were tense from the day. Lance found out some of Keith's secrets unwillingly. Keith's best friend's dorm got moved, and now he had Lance. Did the world hate him? He hated Lance, why was he stuck with him for the rest of the year? He rested his head on the wall. And why did Hunk say Lance can't take care of himself? What was wrong with Lance? He wanted to know.

He didn't know why he wanted to know. He ran his conditioner coated fingers through his hair. Keith didn't want to blackmail Lance, why did he care so much about Lance's problems. Lance's problems probably consisted of breaking a nail or uneven eyeliner or something. Keith scoffed. He finished washing off and wrapped the towel around his waist. He then hurried to an open bathroom stall to change. Lance weighed heavily on his mind and he wasn't sure why. Lance was a pest, that's all.

Lance was a pest.

Keith walked back to the dorm room, hand towel draped around his neck. Lance was on the phone, and when Keith walked in, he talked quieter. Lance was obviously considerate, almost whispering into the phone when Keith shut the door. He also was speaking in... Spanish? Keith watched, hand still on the doorknob. He didn't know Lance spoke Spanish. Keith retreated to his bed quietly as if not to disturb Lance. Occasionally Lance would laugh warmly, something Keith never heard before. It was always this obnoxious cackle. But now, Lance was really soft. It must be his mom.

He sat up very straight as though his mom were right in front of him. Sometimes he's run a hand through his hair and smile. It was also obvious when he cracked a joke because he would smirk devilishly and talk in this weird, jaunty voice. Keith curled up on his bed, a little distraught. This was a new Lance... it was a blend of Online Lance and School Lance. It was... Real Lance. Lance was himself when he spoke Spanish with his mother. Lance was himself when he asked people their favorite colors.

A little bit of anger inside of Keith faded. Maybe Lance wasn't that bad. "Te amo, Mama," Lance said. It was probably the only Spanish Keith knew. Lance hung up, throwing his phone on the bed. "Are you going to be my photographer or what, Mullet?" Back to the nicknames. Keith chuckled.

"Sure Lance." Lance squeaked excitedly. "I didn't know you spoke Spanish."

"Yeah, a lot of people don't know that." Lance sat up and flung himself off the bed, moving to grab miscellaneous things from his dresser. "I'm from Cuba." Keith moved to rest his head in his hand to look at Lance.

"Really?" Keith hoped he sounded as interested as he felt. Lance smiled excitedly.

"Yeah! My whole family speaks Spanish, it was everyone's first language." Keith was smiling slightly, this info all new.

"How big is your family."

"Um," Lance hesitated, but not because he wanted to hide it but because he was thinking. It must have been big. "Nine. Two parents, three younger siblings, three older siblings."

"Wow." Keith mumbled. Nine people all under one roof. Nine all related by blood.

"What about you Keith." There it is. The elephant in the room. Keith hesitated, not because he was thinking but because he wanted to hide it.

"I don't... I don't have a family." Lance stopped and looked bewildered.

"Don't have a family? Did you come from dust or something? Oh my god, are you a robot?" Keith laughed, only mildly upset.

"No. My parents are Korean. They gave me up when I was too young and I was sent to American foster homes. Somehow I ended up here in North Carolina when it was time for college."

"Are you mad at your parents?" Keith didn't miss a beat with this one.

"I hate them. I hate my parents for giving me up. No family should put a son through what they put me through. If adoption ended with me, then I would be the happiest boy on Earth, but the thought of people giving up their kids... it's sickening. Those kids get so much less love in a lifetime at their foster homes than just a week in their birth homes." Keith spoke too bitterly to think through what he said. He didn't realize this was the storm cloud in his mind until it was all right there. The words hung like laundry on a clothesline.

"Well... Mama could always handle one more kid." Keith snorted again. Lance was saying such dumb things.

"Are you saying your mom is going to adopt me?" Lance laughed loudly. It wasn't the obnoxious cackle, it was just a laugh. Just a normal 'oh, that's funny' laugh.

"Of course not Mullet. I'm saying..." Lance rummaged through his desk, seemingly unable to find something. "I'm saying if you want a place you can call home, Mama would be grateful to have you. We have a spare room. It's not mustard yellow, it's more of a baby yellow but it's yellow, right?" Keith nodded.

"Whatever you say, Lance." Lance had squirmed right into Keith's heart in this hour, and Keith hated it. He hated Lance.

"Lights on or off?" Lance asked, as he stood by the door.

"Lance, it's like midnight, why are you showering now?" Lance closed his eyes and puffed his lips out.

"Gotta keep myself pretty somehow. On or off?"

"Off." The lights turned off and now there was just the beautiful fairy lights and the faint yellow outline of the door. Keith looked over Lance's space. It was neat, the bed was a really pale shade of blue. He had a little succulent in the window sill and a photograph there too. Curious, he went over to look at it. There wasn't one, but two. The one on top was him and what looked to be his Mama.

He had his arms thrown around her neck with a wide smile on his face. Mama smiled too. Her skin was dark, like Lance's, and her eyes shimmered a deep chocolate. She wasn't too fat or too skinny, she seemed just the right size to give the best hug you could ever receive. She had on a simple red dress with a gorgeous blue flower pin on it. Her face was very soft and round, every angle curving softly.

Keith flipped to the second photo which was overwhelming to look at. People of all shapes and sizes were crammed into that small picture. Lance did have a big family. There was Lance his mom and all other seven of them. Lance was on one of his brother's back's. Keith envied this happy family. They were all grinning and laughing and Keith wished he had that. A family that loved him. Keith set the pictures down next to the plant and got back in bed. Lance didn't return for a long while, not until Keith was on the verge of sleep.

When the door opened, Keith sat up and watched Lance come in. Lance didn't wake him, for some reason he just felt lonely without Pidge. "L-Lance." Lance looked over at Keith and laughed quietly.

"Why are you still awake? You need beauty rest, no wonder you're so ugly." Keith crossed his arms and furrowed his eyebrows.

"I just wanted to know about your family." Lance shuffled to his bed and curled up under the soft warmth. For some reason, the freckles on his face were brighter, even in the dark.

"Well, Mama gives good hugs. She watches over all of us. Papa, well... he earns us the money we need. Let's see... Alondra is my oldest sister..." Lance kept pausing for some reason, almost like he was skipping over stuff. His eyebrows were knitted like he had to think long and hard about his family.

"Are you okay?" Lance locked eyes with Keith briefly before closing his eyes and nodding.

"Yeah, there's just a lot of people and stories and I can't share everything, not yet." Keith frowned.

"How about... one family member a night?" Lance's eyes sparkled from across the room.

"Why are you so interested in me all of the sudden?" Lance asked defensively. Was his family something he didn't want to talk about?

"I just don't want it to be awkward. Whether you like it or not, were roommates now. I don't want to spend the rest of the year not talking to you." Lance rolled into his back, watching the ceiling as if there was something written there. When he found nothing, he sighed.

"Mama. Mama is the guardian of the household. She feeds everyone and watches over us. She will patch up scraped knees and paper cuts. She always has time for us kids. She taught me..." Lance caught his breath. "Um... its dumb but she taught me how to sew."

"That's not dumb Lance, that's cool. Sewing is cool." Lance's pink lips curled into a smile.

"Really?"

"Yeah Lance. Do whatever you want regardless of how lame you think it is." Lance nodded.

"Wow, Keith isn't such a bitch."

"Wow, Lance isn't such a prick when he's by himself." Lance laughed. It sounded forced.

"Anyways. She gives really good hugs. Even when we do the dumbest stuff, he still loves us. She is so supportive of what we want." Keith nodded. It was quiet for a little. Keith was nervous to move. The beds were creaky as hell and were grating on the ear.

"You know... Hunk told me to take care of you," Keith said. He was still facing Lance's direction, but he was watching the rug on the floor instead. Lance chuckled.

"Ah Hunk. Best friend through thick and thin."

"I was just... I was wondering why he'd say something like that." Lance suddenly turned again, catching Keith's attention.

"Look Mullet, I hardly know anything about you, can we save that conversation for a later time?" Lace had a mix of anger and fatigue. Keith just nodded, the mood having faded. His irritation at the boy returned.

"Well... night."

"Night." Both boys turned to face their walls to think. Keith was only more curious as to why Lance wouldn't share. He was only more curious as to Lance as a person. He had to be more than a prick right? People were always more than just pricks.

And Lance? Lance just thought about his family. He payed Keith almost no space in his mind. He thought about Mama and all that she had to deal with. Most of it was his fault anyways, he was a pretty bad son. He wrapped his arms around himself as though he were cold, but he was really just trying to keep himself composed. If Hunk were in Keith's bed, he wouldn't hesitate to walk over and curl up against his big warm back. Lance was pretty sure Keith would not appreciate if he did that right now. So he didn't. He stayed in his own bed feeling cold and sad and wondering why he'd been the one to cause such a wonderful woman so much pain.