The carnage broke them.

There are certain heinous, unhinged actions from which there is no going back, that instantly eradicate a relationship.

Unless of course,

- if only for a nanosecond -

blind terror comes into the equation.

Terror combined with shame stuffs filthy rags into gaping holes, the rags having been used to mop up the initial mess.

As they mopped and stuffed, it gradually dawned on them that the gaping holes would always be there, slowly leaking a stink of putrefaction.

For decades that stink hovered between them like smog.

He wrung his hands in his purgatory of despair, trudging exhaustedly through muddy waters, watching her struggle with the impossible task of attempting to reconcile both the shame and the courage of staying.

She buried her constant anxiety in a bed of roses, while he faded away from himself watching rubbish television.