Disclaimer: Riddick and Jack are not mine. The story, however, is. This is actually something that happened to me, at least the middle part of this first chapter. Only someone who has been cheated on by their first love can really understand this. Fortunately, I never made this particular promise, and we worked it out. We've been happy for many years, but the pain never goes away. It's just something you can only forgive, not forget. I can keep going with this, but I won't unless I get feedback. No feedback, no new chaps. Happy angsting!

Life was good. They had found a backwater planet and had made a life. A life where they could be happy, where he had a "job" as an underground fighter, and she did what she did best: hacker/entrepreneur. It had been years since the crash, when they had dropped the holy man off at New Mecca and set off to find someplace under the radar. Even though she had been sixteen at the time and stunted by a life on the streets, with regular meals and training with Riddick, she had finally grown up to be a beautiful woman. It had taken time and patience to convince him that she did not see him as a brother, but since then they had been happy just to be with each other. Being able to finally stay in one place, to have roots, had made them both surprisingly happy. She had thought he was happy with her. That was the whole point, though. She thought.

It was Friday, and every Friday they went to the same bar to let loose before he went to his "job". He never wanted her to go, told her it was something that he wanted that was just for him, and as she knew he was only turning men into pulp, she was fine with it. They had always worked so well together because they were honest. They both were flirtatious people, they knew that and accepted that, but they had long since sat down and decided what the boundaries were. Dancing with men, ok. Lap dancing with men, not ok. Dancing with women, ok. Dirty dancing with women, ok. Anything more than that, not ok. Simple, right? And even though the last few months, one particular woman had claimed him for several dances, she never worried. Let the woman torture herself by trying to seduce him and end up realizing every time, as with all the other times in the past, that dancing does not mean she got to take him home. He was spoken for. Honestly, Jack kinda got off on watching the poor woman try to get in his pants so hard, only to be politely rebuffed. And she always made it up to him the next morning, like a thank you, a reassurance that she knew how hard it could be at times to turn down sex. For so many years he had been used to getting it when he could, never knowing when it would next be available, so it had taken some getting used to for him. And she always rewarded his efforts.

Which is why she was somewhat shocked to have the woman actually go up and talk to her one night. True, Jack was already drunk, but not so drunk that she wasn't aware of what was going on. So imagine her surprise when the woman forwent another dance with him to sitting next to her at the bar and ordering a drink.

While she was waiting, she turned to Jack, and her face showed no duplicity, no jealousy, just... curiosity.

"Can I ask you a question?" Feeling safe, because she would still be waking up to her Riddick in the morning, she saw no reason to be rude.

"Sure."

"Why doesn't it bother you to see him dancing with me and all the other girls?" The bartender gave her her drink, but she was intent on Jack's response.

"Richard and I love each other. That's all that matters. I know he loves me, so when he does stuff like that, it's no big deal. We have our rules, and we always talk about things if we want to change them, so we don't have any problems." The woman finally took a sip of her drink.

"So he can do whatever he wants as long as he still loves you?" Jack frowned, her body swaying slightly.

"Sure. When he's out there," she motioned to the dance floor, "he can do whatever he wants. I'm the one he still loves in the morning." The woman smiled at her and finished her drink.

"You're really lucky, ya know?", she said before heading back to the dance floor. Jack smiled smugly at her back, deciding she was ready to go home. Sometimes she found Riddick before she left, sometimes she did not. Assuming he was still out on the dance floor, she headed for the door, only to have strong arms snake around her waist.

"Lucy told me what you said. Did you mean it, baby?" Blinking slowly, she focused on his face and smiled at him, turning around in his arms to kiss him.

"Yep. You love me and only me, as long as that doesn't change, we can't go wrong." She smiled at the wide smile he gave her.

"Ok, baby. I'll see you tomorrow. Love you", he whispered so no one else could hear. She smiled to herself as she walked carefully home. He was still, and probably always would be slightly uncomfortable saying the words. She knew he felt them, but when he had lived most of his life without any love, he would probably never get used to saying it. So, every once in a while he would whisper it so that only she could hear. Somehow, that made it all the more special to her.

The next day she woke up and realized he was not there. Frowning, she got up and headed for the bathroom, brushing her teeth and trying to think of a reason for him not to be there. She gasped as she realized he could have been hurt at work. It had never happened before, but that just meant there would always be that first time. She spit out her toothpaste and rushed to her phone, relieved to see no messages. If he had been hurt, they would have left a message, it was the only thing she had asked him in return for not going to any of his fights. So, he was ok. She shrugged her shoulders. There was always a reason for everything he did, so she would find out what it was when he got back. Knowing that still did not help the little hurt voice in the back of her head, the one that whispered that he always came home, had never gone out after work. He knew he would be coming home to his Jack, who would suprise him with something different each week. Sighing, she went back into the bedroom and put away the edible massage oil, tossing it into her nightstand. He would just have to wait until next week. She busied herself around the house, growing more anxious as each hour passed. Finally, at noon, he walked into the door with flowers. For a split second, she wondered what he did wrong. He was not the flowers kind of person. He shrugged.

"'Cause I'm late. Missed your wake-up call." She watched him for any sign of guilt, but she couldn't see any. Figuring she was being paranoid and the bitchy kind of woman she swore to herself she would never be, she put it out of her mind. She accepted his reason without any hesitation. She had no reason not to.

Two weeks later, she had brushed her teeth and was getting into bed, when she heard the words that no one in a relationship wants to hear.

"Babe, I need to talk to you about something." His tone said it was serious. Ignoring the beat that her heart had skipped, she pulled the covers aside and sat on her side of the bed, pulling the covers around her. For some reason, she wanted to be covered.

"Remember two Fridays ago, when Lucy asked you why we could flirt so much and it didn't bother you?" Her mouth ran dry and her heart had officially stopped beating. Unable to get any moisture in her mouth, she nodded, knowing that he could see her movement in the dark.

"I just needed to tell you that Lucy and I slept together that night." The words bounced around in her head for a second before she could put them in an order that made sense. And then, for a reason that she would never be able to figure out, she smiled. Almost laughed. Like, it was so unexpected, so horrible that she had no choice but to do the exact opposite of what her heart was doing - screaming.

"You what," she whispered. And for the first time in her life, she was glad that she could not see his face. Especially when he cleared his throat. Always a sign of guilt.

"Well, Lucy said that you guys had talked, and that as long as I only loved you..." So many things popping into her head. Like the silences that had never been there before, his extra gentleness in bed, even when she wanted it rough. The times that she had felt that she had forgotten something, the little voice in her head that said she was missing something very important, her unease, it all made sense. It was all coming from him.

She was sure that her laughter was making him nervous, but she honestly didn't care. It was either that or put a shiv to his throat.

"So, let me get this straight. Lucy asked me why I wasn't jealous when you would dance with other women, and somehow that meant she was asking if it was ok to sleep with you? Or did she just flat out say that I said it was ok to sleep with another woman when that has always been the one limit I have ever put on you? Because I'm wondering how this could happen?" Things were starting to click in her head, her thoughts were moving much faster than her lips ever could.

"Well, I thought that was what Lucy had asked you. That's why I caught up with you before you left and made sure you were ok with it." No more smiles. Maybe not ever again. Not when her heart felt as dark as the room she was sitting in. She had not been able to look in his eyes since his confession, looking at the wall or the blanket in front of her, but now her head was too heavy to hold up. It fell into a waiting hand, propped on her knee just in case.

"Riddick, you asked me if I was sure. You never said what specifically, so I thought you were just talking about the dancing thing. Which is all I had talked to Lucy about. I don't know if she was speaking in girl code and I was too drunk to catch it, or if she just twisted my words around, but I never once told her I was ok with you sleeping with anyone other than me." A single thought hit her in the front of her head so hard it jerked her head up to meet his eyes for the first time. Even then she wasn't really seeing them.

"Oh, god. You knew. You felt guilty, or you wouldn't have brought me flowers. You would have told me, or thanked me, or something. But you brought me flowers and didn't say a goddamned word. You even lied about where you were. So, what? You didn't go to work that night? You went to her house or a motel or something?" One of the things they had decided early on, was that she would not yell. Her mouth got away from her, her temper said things she didn't mean, and it took her forever to calm down. He only yelled if it was life or death anyway, so they had saved themselves quite a few nasty arguments that way. This was not one of those times. She was holding to her promise not to yell. This was bad beyond yelling, bad that was beyond whispering. This was bad monotone. Bad carrying on a regular conversation, discussing the possible end of everything like they were deciding what they wanted to eat for dinner. Bad end of the world, at least hers.

"We got a motel. I didn't go to work. I came home as soon as I woke up. And yeah, once I woke up and could think past my hangover, I realized you never woulda said that. I just didn't know how to tell you." They sat in silence for several minutes. She knew he was waiting for her to say something, give him some clue as to what she was thinking. But her face felt as wooden, as empty as her chest. No, her chest hurt, like she had heartburn. But her mind was strangely calm. No thoughts. Just darkness. Like the room.

"Jack, I know I shoulda known better. That was the one rule, the only thing we were not allowed to do. I don't know how to say I'm sorry enough, I don't have any excuses. Jack, I'm so sorry. I love you." She nodded, pulling her unfocused gaze away from his face and mechanically got under the covers, her back to him. She knew he was hoping for her to say anything, to say she loved him, to yell at him, even. There were just no words in her mind or heart. She felt him snuggle up against her, an arm around her waist. She didn't resist, didn't tense up, did... nothing. When he gave up and rolled over to his side of the bed, then she let her eyes close and the darkness take over completely.

The next morning, oh god yes, the next morning she felt it. It was Friday, but she would not be going to the bar. No, she thought as she got out of bed as gingerly as if she had aged fifty years. She felt she had. She felt old, weary, only half in reality. She made coffee, realized she had been staring at the coffee pot for an hour, and took a cup to the couch to resume her staring there. Riddick didn't speak to her, but he was there. Not too close, not avoiding her, but hovering in-between. And always watching. She really could not claim to have any conscious thought, instead letting the back of her mind deal with it for her. She might have spent the whole day like that if not for a beep on her computer. She automatically went to check it, seeing that she had a job. She went to get dressed, taking her clothes into the bathroom to get dressed for the first time in years. Somehow, when she heard the door click shut, she snapped. No screaming, no crying, no anger. No, she saw them, saw HER Riddick slamming his dick into that woman, saw her sucking HIS dick, saw them moaning and screaming as they came together. Not her and Riddick. Lucy and Riddick. Oh, the things she was seeing. Did he lick her, suck on Lucy the same way he had learned worked Jack into a frenzy? Did he have her lick his balls, suck on them both at the same time, something he never knew he liked until Jack had tried it? Did he bite her nipples hard, like Jack liked when she was in a rough mood? She bet they were rough that night. Did he bite her shoulder, did she bite him? That was something she considered special, but then she thought everything about sex with Riddick was special. Now it would never be special. None of it would. He had fucked another woman, kissed another woman with the same lips Jack had kissed for the last two weeks, had made Lucy scream his name, had probably called out hers, so no, she could consider nothing they did 'hers' any more. His body was no longer hers, his heart, not even those lips she had loved to explore for hours. Just thinking about touching her tongue to his, when it had probably been inside another woman, touching another woman's clit, made her stomach jump. She had to breathe for long minutes before she knew she would not throw up. No, he was tainted, corrupted. He belonged to another now, whether he realized it or not.

She looked at her own reflection in the mirror, and had to admit what she had always thought would be the one thing she didn't have to worry about. She wasn't enough for him. Yes, he loved her. Yes, as much as it hurt to be honest, she still loved him. But she was not enough of a woman to keep him satisfied. They had enough sex, so maybe she had just lost his interest. He needed new experiences, with new people. Maybe he just wasn't meant to be a one woman man. If that was it, that was not her problem. They had agreed to the rules, and he had never broken them before. She wanted to write it off as a one-time mistake, a series of events that just happened to conspire into this creating this horrible situation, but that did not explain his lie. His omission for two weeks. He knew he had done wrong. He had cheated on her, and she had told him before they had ever done anything, she had been very clear when she promised to disappear if he once chose to not keep it in his pants. Those had been her exact words, 'keep it in your pants or I'm gone.' Well, time to do one last job and she was gone. Did she want to go, no. The thought made her chest tighten, made her want to hyperventilate, made her scared for the first time since they were on that planet. She wanted nothing more than to climb into his arms and talk their way through this. But he had lied to her. If his conscience had not compelled him to tell her (and she was assuming that was why he had told her), she would never have found out. She would never have known. That was why she could not stay. There was no going back from being lied to for two weeks. Besides, he couldn't have been too drunk, because he was supposed to work that night. So some part of him had to have known, before they left the bar and after he had asked Jack, that it wasn't right. That something wasn't right. Sure, everyone makes mistakes, no one is perfect, but not fucking another woman is a very big, and easy-to-do, mistake to avoid. It's simple. Don't fuck another woman. She couldn't forgive that.

Her mind made up, she got dressed and noticed her laptop bag was in the bathroom. She never brought it into a room with running water. Yet, it was sitting on the toilet, all the extra pockets discretely full of toiletries. She wanted to be shocked, but she wasn't. Somewhere in her mind she had known she was leaving. Turning her bathroom light off for the last time, she carried her bag into the living room of the apartment, noting that he had been watching TV, but was now regarding her with as close to fear as she thought Riddick was capable of.

"I have a job. I don't know how long it will take." She almost said she would be back later, out of habit, but she couldn't lie to him. She wouldn't. He would figure it out eventually. He hadn't given her the respect to tell her he had fucked up right away, so she wasn't going to tell him she was leaving. It's not like she hadn't told him the consequences long ago. His not remembering was not her problem. She grabbed her purse, her coat, and her keys, looked at him solemnly one last time, and walked out the door. She knew he would not try to get a hug or a kiss, or anything from her right now. He was probably very wary and not looking forward to the blow-up he expected to happen. She smiled wryly as she pulled her apartment key off her key ring and placed it silently on the doormat. If she had screamed and yelled, if there had been some emotion left, then they could have possibly worked it out. But she felt nothing.

She sat in her little bunk, unable to remember the last job she had done. It couldn't have been that hard, apparently. Then she had gone to the port, booked the first passage out, and she was gone. She wasn't really sure where she was going; she would have to look at her ticket. All she knew was that... she didn't know anything. She had thought she had life all figured out, the big stuff at least. Riddick had been all the big stuff. The little stuff had never really mattered. But now she was faced with existence as a heartbroken woman, alone. She didn't even know if Riddick would try to come after her. She laughed out loud, listening to the bitter sound bouncing off the walls of her tiny room. Maybe he would assume she wanted some time alone, maybe he would spend some more time with Lucy to try and forget, maybe he would believe that she was keeping her word, that she was gone. And yes, the small part of her that had no shame, didn't understand the word pride, that part wanted him to come find her. But she had to do this for herself. She had to keep her word. He had put her in this situation, and she had to keep the promise she had made to both of them. Even if she never felt true happiness again.