His gaze lingers as he opens his arms wide and she fills the void, succumbing to his warm embrace. They share a moment, just enjoying the feeling of each other’s bodies snug and tight, fitting perfectly like a puzzle piece. She looks up and puckers her lips, he leans in and gently presses his mouth against hers, laying a smooch before remorsefully pulling away. He’s leaving. “Don’t go,” she says, knowing good and well he has to. He works graveyard shifts. He won’t be back until the morning, and she knows this. He exits and she watches him walk to the car as if she sincerely cares, shutting the door when he’s out of sight.
Then, it begins. She goes in her room and slips into something more comfortable. She’s probably already forgotten her boyfriend’s name because she’s too consumed by the thrill and anticipation of the immoral pleasure she’s about to indulge in. She enthusiastically opens the refrigerator, grabbing a bottle of wine. It’s a moderately expensive merlot that HE paid for. She pops the cork and pours herself a disgraceful vat of violet happiness, an amount fit only for a Jezebel.
She goes into the living room and it’s only a few moments before the disloyal acts begin. How can you look the alleged love of your life in the face one second and casually stab him in the back as soon as he turns around? She doesn’t care. She lies on the couch and takes in every last bit of pleasure, fulfilling her desires without the least bit of consideration for his feelings. She’s thoroughly enjoying herself.
From outside you can hear what sounds like giggling. Her boyfriend hears it. Why? Because he read his schedule wrong and it turns out he was off tonight. He came home with a pint of her favorite ice cream as a surprise. The voices, the snickering – he hears it all and recognizes who they belong to. He softly slides his key into the lock, twisting and opening quickly.
She’s caught red-toothed, wine stains all over her mouth. She’s flabbergasted as her head snaps up and their eyes meet. “You have got to be kidding me!” he yells, as she nervously smirks and scrambles for the right words to say.
“I’m sorry, I just… I shouldn’t have. I know.”
He turns and sees the face of a man he’s very familiar with. It’s Andrew Lincoln. Rick Grimes. This is an episode of The Walking Dead, but it’s not one that he’s seen. This… This is season three. It’s uncharted territory. Well, at least for him it is. She’s committed couples TV watching disloyalty. Netflix cheating. They began this series together and here she is, sipping vino and flying through episodes without him.
“What are you…? I can’t believe you’d actually do this!” he cries out, clearly hurt. Now she realizes she’s done some damage. She sits silently.
He grabs the remote and discovers that this is his nightmare. They last watched the season two finale and here she is, on the eleventh episode of season three, ironically titled “I Ain’t a Judas.” She is a Judas. Being introduced to new characters and drastic plot changes as if this type of betrayal is acceptable and everything is hunky-dory. It’s not hunky-dory . Things will never be the same.
She’ll apologize and he’ll accept. He’ll say he forgives her but deep down he can’t. He keeps imagining her watching T-Dog die. Watching Lori give birth and lose life. He can’t erase those images or shake the violated feeling that haunts him. They’ll be intact for sometime, but eventually they’ll watch Breaking Bad or Scandal or Orange Is The New Black, and he’ll get even. He’ll grow cold and callous — instead of feeling guilty he’ll get some twisted satisfaction out of jumping ahead in each series. He’ll even re-watch episodes with her pretending not to know what happens. Two wrongs don’t make a right, but it’s the only retribution he can get.
People, don’t have sex with others when you’re in an exclusive relationship, but also don’t watch ahead on TV shows. That cuts deep. Hearts are shattered, lives altered, loves damaged beyond repair. Kind of like Walt & Skyler White – and if you understand what that comparison means but your partner doesn’t yet, well you should confess your infidelities and beg for their forgiveness.
TL;DR: Orange Is The New Black and skipping ahead on a TV series you began watching with your boyfriend/girlfriend is the new cheating.