When they became neighbors and friends, Peter Hastings and Jessica DiLaurentis never saw anything in each other but friendship. Not until the morning she fought with Ken and chased him into the rain. She stood there, soaked to the skin and sobbing, calling his name and watching in disbelief as he ignored her, driving away without a backward glance.

Peter caught sight of her as he backed down his driveway. She was standing in the pouring rain in a thin robe, distraught and devastated, her hands fisted in her long dark blond hair. Stopping the car, the threw it into park and reached for his umbrella. Racing across the yard, he came to a stop at her side.

"Jessica!" He called to her, putting an arm around her quivering form, sheltering her from the rain beneath the umbrella. "Jessica, are you all right?"

"N-n-n-n-n-n-o," she stuttered.

She looked up at him with tear-filled blue eyes and his heart broke for his beautiful neighbor. Looking into her face, he saw something there he had never seen before, feeling a peculiar beckoning from her soul to his. He wondered if she felt the same tug as she looked at him with wide eyes.

Giving her shoulders a squeeze, he led her up the front steps and through the door. He escorted her into the living room, visually searching for a blanket or throw to cover her with to ward off a chill.

As he wrapped a throw around her, she whispered, "He's so cruel, Peter."

Momentarily stunned by her admission, he pulled himself together and queried, "What do you mean?"

"He makes me feel useless, stupid."

"Did you have an argument this morning? Is that why you were out in the yard?"

"Yes. I was trying to talk to him, but he ignored me. He just drove away as if I wasn't standing there."

"Jess, Ken is a hard ass. Did you think that would change with time?"

"It's gotten worse, that's what I'm trying to say."

"You can't let him get under your skin. That's what he's trying to do, but you have to ignore it or hide that he's hurt you."

"Thanks, Peter, that's great advice," she responded bitterly, walking to the window and watching the rain fall. "He gets to keep on being abusive and I have to smile prettily and keep taking his shit. Thanks for the talk, I'm fine now."

"Don't do this."

"You know the way out."

"What are you thinking about doing?"

"I don't know. I know I didn't sign up for this. I feel like I was just an acquisition and now my only purpose is to play hostess or hang on his arm at parties. I'm a prop."

He approached her, placing his hands on her shoulders. Gently, he said, "You didn't feel that way before? Be honest with yourself."

"When we were alone, he was different. I-I thought once we were married, he'd grow up and stop being a jerk. Instead, he's an even bigger asshole than I'd ever dreamed he could be."

"He's been under a lot of pressure at work. Maybe that's why he's lashing out at you."

"Or maybe he's having buyer's remorse."

"Ken is crazy about you, he said he always has been. He's not one for big romantic gestures or declarations, that's all. He isn't demonstrative."

"He's out til all hours, he acts like he doesn't want to be here when he is. Sometimes he comes home freshly showered." She turned her head, pinning him with a piercing look, "Do you think he's having an affair?"

Peter had known Ken for two years and in that time discovered he was a serial cheater in college, while Jessica had appeared oblivious. Whether it was willful, blissful ignorance, he couldn't say, but he knew her well enough now to tread lightly. She was explosive when provoked.

"I guess it's possible."

"I know about the other women, the ones in college," she stated, her tone flat. Turning to face him, his hands fell away, but the fire in her eyes warned of an imminent nuclear meltdown. "So, let's lay our cards on the table, shall we?"

"Once you open this door, there's no closing it. Do you understand?"

"How could it be any worse? At least now I'll know the truth definitively and won't have to bust my butt for approval he's never going to give."

He blew out a breath, his hands on his hips, looking beyond her to the rain-soaked landscape outside. "Yes, he's having an affair. No, you don't know her and she doesn't work with him."

Her hand fell to her side, her eyes lowering to the table to her right. She reached out, picking up a crystal curio, looking it over. A scream of rage erupted from her and she hurled the delicate item at the wall.

"Jesus!" Peter stared at her and said, "That was Waterford."

She shrugged, "It was a gift from his mother. One less possession for him to worry about."

"Are you all right? Do you need me to call someone?"

"I don't need to hear "I told you so" from every person I know."

"So, they uh, they know."

"Of course. My father never liked him. The only reason he agreed to the marriage was because Ken's family had money too. As he walked me down the aisle, he said this time he was going to let me learn the hard way."

"They didn't know you knew?"

"I couldn't let him be right, Peter, I couldn't. Don't you understand?"

"No, not really." He held up a hand and reached into his coat pocket, fishing out his phone. "Let me call Donna at the office. I'll tell her they can reach me on my cell phone and we'll talk some more."

Her features grew soft and she smiled tremulously. "Really?"

"Of course, Jess, you're my friend and I'm worried about you."

Her eyes welled with tears and she swallowed hard, whispering, "Thank you."

He nodded and smiled, "Let me make this call."

They talked for nearly two hours though the topic invariably drifted away from Ken and onto much more pleasant things. They spoke at length, relaxed and unguarded. Strangely, it was Jessica who exclaimed and apologized for keeping him so long.

"It's fine, don't worry. The boss knows where to reach me if I'm needed," he teased with a wink.

She laughed and suddenly stopped short, her eyes widening. "It won't matter that this is completely innocent, Peter. It won't matter that you were here being a friend. We've been alone together in my house for more than two hours after I learned my husband is cheating on me."

"No one would ever believe you and I had something going on, Jessica."

She bristled and demanded, "And why is that?"

"Look at you. And you have never looked at me as anything but a friend. I'm a friend of Ken's, but one he has never had much use for. Why do you think he let you hire me?"

"That's not true. I-I noticed you. And he had nothing to do with my hiring you." She ducked her head, took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "And that is why you should go."

"Oh. I see." He nodded, scooting his chair back from the dining room table, but remained seated. "I uh, noticed you too."

"I knew that, actually," she responded slowly, meeting his eyes. "You are a good friend. But honestly, this isn't the first time I've wondered what if I had made different choices back then. If I had taken the time to peel back the layers, rather than letting myself get caught up in his charm and smooth talking and all the superficial things I put too much stock in. What if I had looked for a man with a good heart and a kind soul, a man who would appreciate me for who I am, faults and all?"

"Your life would definitely be different," he acknowledged. His heart began to beat a little faster, his mind racing with ideas, but his foremost thought was "is she saying what I think she's saying" and this got his adrenalin pumping. He decided to take the bull by the horns. "Jessica, what are you saying?"

From her place at the head of the table, she leaned over, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. "I'm talking about regrets, Peter. I had choices, other opportunities, but I settled for what I knew, what I was comfortable with. Now, I wish I'd been fearless."

Turning his hand, he clasped hers. "It's funny you said that, because I wish I'd taken a few risks myself."

A knowing passed between them as they gazed into each other's eyes. The spell was broken by the shrill ring of Peter's cell phone, their hands reluctantly parting.

"Hello?" He listened carefully and nodded. "OK, I'll be right there."

"See you tomorrow?" She smiled brightly, gracefully rising.

"Yeah, tomorrow. The barbeque."

"Yes."

"I'm glad we talked. I regret the circumstances, but I am glad we were able to chat."

"Me too. Maybe we can do this again some time."

####

It was Ken who first noticed the change. His wife was happy again. She sang while she cooked, the sound of her laughter filled the house, his criticisms rolled off of her like water off a duck's back. He didn't like it, not one little bit.

He began snooping through her things, checking for any kind of drugs, and came up empty. He watched her alcohol intake, feigning an increased desire for intimacy to check her breath, but there were no traces of excess. He even went through her dirty clothing, looking for signs of an affair, but once again, no dice. It irked him all the more because something was making her happy, his Stepford Wife had regained her personality, and that was simply unacceptable.

Initially, he was vigilant. He was a fixture at her side when he wasn't working, yet there was nothing suspicious in her behavior or movements. Her spirits were still high and that grated on him like fingernails on a chalkboard. Was it as simple as she had discovered a way to beat him at his own game?

As quick as he had been to anger over the situation, he was a man with certain appetites and those appetites would not be denied. He began to drift away, his interests in other women held more appeal than the mystery of his wife's good humor.

Eventually, she would grow weary of the game, fall back in line and become his version of the perfect wife again. But until then, he had plenty of pleasurable company to distract him from his marital woes.