Cheater

Then she began to walk away.
"Wait," I called after her instinctively. I reached for her hand and tried to pull her back to me. "Where are you going?"
"Home," she replied, defiantly trying to retrieve her hand from my tight grasp. "Please, let me go."
"I don't want to," I mumbled as I stared into her dark eyes before my eyes lost focus.
"You're drunk, Jess. C'mon, let go," she tugged on her arm.
"No!" I shouted, jumping up from the stool at the bar. "I love you, and I know that you love me. You can't leave."
"You don't love me, Jess. In you're sick mind though, you think that you do." She looked at me coldly, her voice matching her stare.
"No, I do love you. You mean everything to me," I slurred.
"Well what the fuck did I mean to you when you were fucking that guy?!" she yelled, getting riled up again.
"I'm sorry, I really am. It was a huge mistake and-" I began, attempting to mend the damage that I had done just a few days before.
"This isn't the first time that you did this to me either! I'm done. We're done. Now let go of my hand before I beat the shit out of you," she threatened as she looked at me through narrow eyes.
"Yes! Beat the shit out of her! Fight!" someone hollered from what seemed a million miles away, but was most likely only a few feet away.
"Shut up!" she snapped, turning her head around to look at the person with what I presume was an agonizing glare.
"Well, then make out! But do SOMETHING! I want a show!" the offender hollered back.
She swiveled her head around to look me in the eye again and flashed me a devilish smile.
"You know, I do feel like making out with someone..."
She yanked her hand out of my weakening grasp and jumped right onto the guy's lap, planting her beautiful lips onto his scummy ones. Initially, he was surprised, but he soon got comfortable. Too comfortable. They were making a scene; rubbing each other, moaning, tongues were everywhere, and people were hollering.
My cheeks burned and I stomped over to my love and the punk, blind with rage.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" I shrieked at her, my eyes losing focus again.
I heard gasping and then she said, "I'm giving you a taste of your own medicine."
Then they were making out again, so I yanked on her long, dark hair.
"Ow! You bitch!" she shouted back, standing up and facing me. Damn, she was tall. She stood at 5'10", while I was 5'7", which isn't necessarily short, but in contrast to her, I suddenly felt tiny.
She punched my arm. Hard.
"Don't," she punched my arm again, "touch me." She punched me two more times and walked right up to my face.
"Finally! A fight!" someone hollered, but this time she ignored the offender.
"Understand?" she asked, shoving me backward with both hands.
Me, being drunk, fell onto my ass, which paralyzed me for a moment from shock. I numbly nodded up at her. And then I watched her grab her purse and storm out the door, swaying her hips in her tight jeans as she went.