"We haven't been happy together in a very long time," observed Oliver, as he and his wife stood side by side on the balcony.

Laurel cocked any eyebrow at him and laughed humorously. "And what makes you say that?" She asked, looking out at the dark blue sky above her. It really was a beautiful view from the master bedroom, she thought, as she took a deep breath of fresh air.

"We're not happy, Laurel," repeated Oliver, removing his suit jacket and folding it over one of his arms. He sighed, glancing towards his wife.

"We've made it this far," she commented, slightly scrunching up her pretty red dress before plopping down on one of the chairs. "We're doing fine." She kicked off her stilettos and put her feet up on a stool lying in the balcony. "Queen Consolidated is doing well. I haven't lost a single case this year. William is healthy and happy."

"We're doing well at work, Laurel," stated Oliver, digging into his pocket to reach to for a pack of smokes and a lighter. He lit one up. "But everything else is a fucking mess. It's all a charade. You're playing the role of the dutiful, beautiful wife and mother and then there's me, pretending to tolerate what is left of our marriage."

"You haven't smoked in years."

"I had the strongest urge to have one last night while I was at the office so I sent Diggle on an errand."

"You're using your bodyguard to procure cigarettes?" Laurel scrunched her nose at her husband as she inhaled some secondhand smoke. "For god's sake, don't light those goddamn death sticks around the house, at least."

"I think we fell out of love a long time ago and we need to figure out what're we supposed to do now, so that we can actually figure out how to fix things."

Laurel rolled her eyes. "You're being unnecessarily overdramatic, Ollie." She untied her hair and set it loosely over her bare shoulders. "We're fine." She started reaching towards the zip on the back of her dress and struggled to pull it down. Looking towards her husband, she gestured to her back. "Do you mind helping?" She asked.

Oliver stared at her blankly. "I think I have feelings for someone else."

Laurel suddenly sat up straight. "Oh. Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Who is she?"

He hesitated and that's when Laurel knew that everything had gone to hell and that shit was about to hit the hypothetical fan. She rose out of her seat and walked over to Oliver. She slapped him straight across the cheek and he didn't even flinch. There she was, Laurel Queen, his beautiful wife, a breathtaking vision in a red dress, with an equally red, furious face.

"We've been through terrible ordeals. I stood by you through everything," her voice was emotionless as she stood face to face with Oliver, her arms suddenly folded across her chest.

Suddenly Oliver saw red too. "Are you referring to William as a terrible ordeal?!" He exclaimed.

"You truly are an asshole," spat Laurel, unable to believe what he had just said. William was perhaps the most important person in her life and she couldn't believe that Oliver would twist her words to make it seem like she was a bad mother. "He means the world to me."

"Does he, really?"

And that was when all hell broke loose and Laurel Queen slapped her husband once more, and threw her priceless wedding ring and engagement ring at Oliver.

Somewhere else in their house, their son climbed out of bed and sleepily started walking over to his parents' room, in search of his mother.