Original subtitles

What can I do for you? What can I do for

you? Yes. Well,

let's see. You can start by not having

slept with my husband or lied to me or

pretending to be my friend. Mercy?

Yes, Alex? What would you like to say to

me? Please say something to me.

Would you like to comfort me the way you

always did when I told you that Randall

was losing interest and you assured me.

No. No, he's not. He wasn't. I wasn't

lying. How could you say that? I was being

honest. Oh. Oh, so you're an honest whore.

Look, I can't take back what

I did. I have been

to hell and back because of it.

Yes, I am a bad person for what I did.

Yes, I lied to you. Yes, I deceived you.

But I'm so sorry.

I really am.

How far along are you?

I asked you a question.

Seven and a half months. Why didn't you

tell me? Because I

knew. I knew how hard it was for you

to get pregnant. No, no, that's not it.

No, that is it. No, I think it's because

you knew you were carrying my husband's

child. No. It's nothing. It's not

Randall's? No. Why does he think it is?

He doesn't. Yes, he does. He told me that.

I don't know why he would say that,

because it's not his. But you were

screwing my husband without a condom?

Yes. Are you

healthy? What does that mean?

Are you healthy? Do you have any diseases?

Chlamydia, hpV? HIV? Crabs,

syphilis? No, I don't have any diseases.

Just the disease of being a manipulating

liar.

Okay, Marcy, go ahead. Get it off your

chest. Get it off my chest? Getting it off

my chest would be dragging you into the

street and beating your ass. You know,

you're above that. Oh, really? While

someone like you can make me reach down

and get it? I'm sorry.

How can you be so sure? I'm sure.

I'm sorry. I'm talking about this not

being Randall's child.

The dates don't add up.

The dates?

Oh, oh, you mean the dates when

you were bouncing between screwing my

husband back to yours?

You kept track. Wow. That must

take talent. You know what? If there's

nothing more that you need here other than

to insult me further, you can go.

Because if you're just trying to make me

feel worse than I already do, that's

impossible.

Where? Where what?

Where did you have sex?

Okay, tell me this. Was it in my bed? No.

Oh. Does that make you feel good? Does

that make you feel good. It wasn't in my

bed. No, it doesn't. Good. Well, it

shouldn't. You might not have been in

my bed, but you're in my husband's heart.

He loves you. He loves you.

When I was a little girl, I screamed

for hours because my dad killed a spider

on my bed. I thought.

I thought it was cruel. I thought

everything deserves life.

Then I met you. You have

made me go to a place that I have never

known and that I hope I never go

to again. My husband

loves you. And for that

I will always hate.