Do I want money?

Do I want love?

Do I want happiness or close enough?

So here he was again.

Sitting at the poker table, pushing his luck and ignoring his fiancé's phone calls because they had another argument about his gambling. It didn't start that way, it started at her parents house (they had been invited round for dinner) and Toby noticed her dads odd behaviour and after a couple of seconds psychoanalyzing him, he came to the conclusion that the fifty year old silver fox was sleeping with the neighbour- who also happened to be there. Needless to say when her mother started to throw plates they left fairly quickly. Half an hour later, after a ride home in awkward silence, they were at their apartment and an argument ensued. So that's how Toby ended up at the poker table. Not that he needed an excuse for gambling.

It was his last bet that got him in trouble, that and his inability to keep his mouth from shooting off and telling other gamblers (and pit bosses) what was wrong with them. Usually mummy issues. Go figure. He was eventually thrown up against the ally wall after being dragged out of the little casino (if you could even call it that) by a disgruntled fellow gambler.

"Listen, lets just talk about this." Toby tried shifting his weight underneath the heavy hands that held him up.

"Shut it!" This guy was a lot taller than Toby and broader too, he looked like he could take on the rock. There was a mean fire burning in his brown eyes and his shaved head gleamed from the street light creeping their way down the alley. Before Toby knew what was going on there was a fist flying towards him, connecting to his nose with a loud crunch followed by thick warm blood trickling down onto his lip then another blow came, then another and another. Varying from his face to his stomach, once he was in a heap on the floor the big guy kicked him in the gut for good measure. "If you know what's good for you, you'd stay away." Spitting on Toby before he walked away, slamming the back door shut with a thud. Toby sat their for a couple of minutes before pulling out his phone, going through his contacts, unsure of who to call. He was already in trouble with his fiancé so that was out and Sylvester wouldn't be much help unless Toby wanted to know what kind of infection he could get; which left Walter and Happy. At the moment Happy was the most recent member, and she was a little guarded... scratch that, she had a wall up as big as China's. He didn't want to drag her into his problems, not when they've only known each other for bout a month. That and for some reason Toby felt himself caring about her opinion of him more than he had with the others. Walter it is then. Toby clicked on Walter's profile and sat listening to the ringing.

"Hello..."

"Hey Walt..."

"This is Walter, I'm busy at the moment so just leave a message." BEEEEP. Toby groaned and scrolled through his contacts once more, deciding to face the music he called his fiancé. Once the ringing had stopped he took a deep breath.

"Hello?"

"Hey babe." Toby wheezed simultaneously wincing a the sharp in take of breath. "I need you to come get me."

"Is everything okay? Where are you?" He softened as he heard her panicked, worried tone.

"I'm in the ally next to Big Al's Casino."

"Oh Toby." She sighed. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

Sure enough, within ten minutes she was in the ally helping him walk towards the car, he assured her he was able to get in and fasten himself in so she left him to it, two minute into the drive home he caught her taking a deep breath.

"We need to talk." She never took her eyes off the road.

They had been home for ten seconds before Toby couldn't take it anymore. She was standing in the kitchen filling the kettle as he stood by the island that separated the kitchen and the living room.

"Don't leave." That caught her off guard. She spun around on her heel, eyes flooded with tears. She placed the kettle on the kitchen top and took Toby's hands in hers.

"I have to, I can't watch you gamble away your life. You're not happy and it's killing me." Her tears broke free, leaving mascara trails down her cheek. "You don't love me."

"Yes I do! I wouldn't have proposed if I didn't love you." He went to dry her eyes but she moved away from him, as if is touch would break her, send her crumbling. "How could you say that?" His voice grew small, as if it could be carried away by a cool breeze.

"You don't love me. Not the way you're suppose to." Toby tried to protest but she cut him off. "If you loved me the way you claim to then you wouldn't have to gamble, you WOULDN'T gamble." She took another deep breath. "Neither of us are truly happy in this relationship, so I think it's best if I leave." She took off her engagement ring setting it carefully on the kitchen counter before going to the bedroom. Toby stared at where she had stood, not taking it all in. She reappeared bringing him out of his daze. She was standing by the front door with a suitcase halfway through the open doorway. "I'm sorry Toby." With that she left.