Rose walked home in a daze, her thoughts muddled with the impending stress of having to conceal her lies, and of course of Ron's newly discovered deceit towards her.

"Oh Mrs. Coyne, you're back," Sally said, her arms heaving with freshly folded laundry, seeing Rose come through the front door. "I hope you had a nice trip. I take it everything is well with your sister."

"Yes, thank you Sally," Rose replied curtly as she placed her luggage down and removed her hat and coat.

"Mr. Coyne is at the pub, but Emma is reading outside if you'd like me to fetch her for you..." Sally said with a degree of hesitance.

"No, that won't be necessary." Rose shook her head before bringing her hand to her rub at her brow. "But thank you Sally." The maid nodded in return, feeling the tension in the air. "I'm actually not feeling too well, so I think i might just take a bath and then have a lie down." Sally nodded again. "If you wouldn't mind preparing dinner alone, I'd be grateful."

"Not at all Mrs. Coyne. Let me know if there's anything you need."

"Thank you Sally," Rose answered tiredly as she headed up the stairs to the bathroom.

After filling the bath a woefully shallow amount thanks to the curse of water rationing, Rose slipped off her clothes and slid into the water.

As she sat staring into space, she was surprised by her sheer lack of feeling. She felt utterly numb, unable to shed a tear, such was the level of her devastation. Looking down at her body, she visually mapped the places Ron's hands had touched and brought her such delight mere hours earlier. Those memories now felt tainted, every touch dirtied with a lie.

Her mind drifted to earlier that day, when they had made intimate conversation during the twilight of the early morning.

"Did you ever want children?" Rose had asked as she lay with her head on his chest. Ron's hand faltered in the lazy pattern it was stroking on her shoulder. Swallowing, he took a nervous breath before replying.

"Yes," he said. "I… It almost happened for me, once." Rose hadn't pressed further, mainly because of a secretly immature desire to not think of his having a past with anyone else.

While it pained her, her mind couldn't help but wander further to the words Ron had gone on to speak moments later.

"I would still like children," he had said, pausing for a beat before adding: "With you." The words made Rose feel like her heart had been cracked open.

"Really?" she'd asked with wonder, turning to look at him.

"Yes, I've thought about it quite a bit actually," he'd confessed. Rose had kissed him gently in reply, a wordless declaration that she wanted the same as him.

But how could she truly believe any of that now? How was she to know she wasn't just another in a long line of many women? As angry as she was, something in her heart told her that wasn't the case. The connection they shared was a rare one, it wasn't the kind that could be manufactured for a cheap fling. Plus, she reasoned, why would a practiced adulter be so silly as to tell someone like Tillie about his wife?

Still, Rose couldn't help but chide herself over the warning signs she'd so obviously missed in hindsight: Ron had never spoken of his romantic past, not even when she had told him the story of how she'd met Michael, and would have seemed obvious for him to recount any similar event from his life. There was also his odd insistence that she were never to hate him, something at the time she didn't understand, but had tried to convince herself fitted into the guilt he was having over their affair.

Her bath water growing cold, she rose from the tub and dried herself off. Once she was in the bedroom, she slipped off her towel and put on a nightgown. Darkness having barely set in, Rose drew the curtains and slipped under the covers, feeling relief at being able to escape the world while she lay cocooned between the sheets.

Stress and the lack of sleep from the previous night catching up with her, she fell asleep quickly only to be woken by Michael returning from the pub hours later.

"Rose," he whispered, his warm body pressed against hers. The feeling was so familiar, yet so foreign to the one in the dream he awoke Rose from. She had been dreaming of Ron of course, memories of the night previous replaying in glorious technicolor, secret wives be damned.

"What is it?" she mumbled.

"I just wanted to say welcome home is all," Michael playfully shook his head before adding more seriously. "I missed ye." Such vulnerable words from his mouth made the pain of Rose's faithlessness hit her like a blow to the chest. "It wasn't the same sleeping alone."

Rose gave him a soft smile and a quick peck on the lips in lieu of lying to say she'd missed him too.

"Goodnight," she said turning her body away from his.

"Goodnight Rose," Michael said placing his hand briefly on her shoulder.

Although her internal clock woke her for her morning walk with Ron, Rose chose not to go. Instead, she decided to busy herself preparing breakfast with Sally.

"Mum!" Kate exclaimed running over to her mother, who happily scooped her up in her arms.

"I missed you!" Rose said kissing her head. "And you!" she said seeing Francis as he came into the room, opening her arms wider to encompass both children in a hug. "Sally and I have made a special breakfast for you, so why don't you sit down and enjoy it."

"Morning mum!" Emma said as she breezed into the kitchen before sitting at the table. "How was Auntie Vera?"

"Auntie Vera was fine," Rose said busying herself with the stove before turning to face her daughter. "Now, how many eggs do you want?"

Breakfast a success, Rose faced the rest of the day like it were any other. The children were sluggish as usual for a Monday morning. While she welcomed the distraction of having to keep them attentive, her tolerance for misbehaviour was lower than usual, and she found herself scolding them unnecessarily on several occasions. It was a relief when lunchtime came around to find herself at last alone in the classroom.

Marking stories the class had written while she ate her sandwich, Rose jumped at the sound of a knock on the classroom door. "Come in," she invited.

When she saw the handsome figure in a US Air Force uniform enter, her stomach dropped.

"I hope I'm OK to be here," Ron said nervously. "It's just you weren't at our spot this morning, I was worried something had happened..."

"I'm fine," Rose shook her head cooly offering nothing more in the way of explanation. Silence stretched between the couple as the clock ticked loudly to their ears.

"Rose, I… Is something wrong?" he asked puzzled. She chose to ignore his question in favour of her own.

"What's her name?" Rose finally asked stone faced.

"What...? Who…?" Ron asked as he placed his hands intimately on her shoulders, searching her face in confusion.

"What's her name?" she repeated again solemnly.

Ron opened his mouth to speak before a realisation dawned upon him. Closing his mouth, his lips formed a hard line.

"You spoke to Tillie..." he said taking a step back from Rose, casting his eyes downwards to avoid her gaze.

"What's your wife's name? I think I deserve to know." Her face remained still, her eyes focused straight ahead in an icily. The only slight sign Rose showed of emotion was to discreetly blink away any sign of tears.

"Rhonda," Ron finally answered quietly. "Her name is Rhonda." Rose said nothing in reply, remaining expressionless aside from a purse of her lips. Silence again stretched between them.

"You should go," she finally told him, whipping round to face the blackboard only to have his hand touch hers, freezing her in her tracks.

"Rose, please…" he pleaded helplessly. Turning, she found herself in close proximity to his face. Sensing her discomfort, Ron took a step back and waited for her to speak.

"You should've told me," she said shaking her head vigorously, her emotions no longer able to be contained. She felt tears prick the backs of her eyes as she looked him square in the face.

"I wanted to, it was never the right time..." Ron defended himself weakly, hearing his own words as ridiculous the second they left his mouth.

"The right time would've been before we kissed," she flashed angrily. "The right time would've been before we'd made love," she added in more of a hushed tone, before finally the rage and hurt was unable to be hidden within her voice. "Before I betrayed my husband for you! Before I ruined my life for you!"

Rose's words turned Ron's expression stonelike, his face frozen from the ruin which he knew he only had himself to blame.

"I never meant to hurt you," he said seriously. "When I told you I didn't have a wife, I never dreamed of what might happen between us."

"You should go," she insisted. "I can't talk to you now." Rose turned her back to him, wiping her eyes as she faced the blackboard. Standing with her head down, she only looked up a few seconds after she heard the telltale sign of the classroom door closing.

Try as she might to hold them back, heavy guttural sobs came from deep within her. They came for reasons other than the fact she'd been lied to; they were self punishment too for being so foolish as to fall for Captain Dreyfuss. Despite herself, she couldn't shake the feeling of self inflicted anger for the words she'd just said to him, knowing that they weren't entirely true.

Rose knew that deep down, had she been completely happy with Michael, had he "filled" her "inner space" as he put it, she would never have considered getting involved with another man, no matter how charming and seemingly perfect for her he may be.

After letting go of her rage, Rose did her best to compose herself in preparation for the afternoon with the school children. Despite her best efforts, she was distracted from teaching, something had that become a habit for her as of late. Her distraction followed her home too, the conversation during supper becoming nothing but background noise to her own thoughts.

"Are you alright?" Michael had asked before he left for the evening's work at the pub.

"I'm fine," Rose said with a forced smile and shake of her head. "I'm just tired, it's been a busy day."

Accepting her explanation, Michael had gone to work and left her alone in the sitting room. As soon as she heard the door shut behind her husband, Rose had gotten up from her seat to sit at the desk. Frantically grabbing writing paper and a pen, she scrawled a letter to Vera.

Dear Vera,

Everything is such an awful mess. Oh how I wish you were here now to talk with. I really need some time away and to see you, so I was wondering if I could come and stay with you, this weekend if it's not too short of notice.

Awaiting your reply,

Rose

Two days later a reply came from her sister, saying she would be awaiting her arrival at the station on Saturday afternoon. Relieved didn't come close to how Rose felt reading the words.

Time away, she decided, was exactly what she needed. Not only did she need to distance herself from Ron, but to distance from Michael, with no other male distractions, would help her clearly sort her feelings for him too.

Michael was surprised when Rose announced she was taking another trip so soon, but she explained it away by saying Vera's mood had taken a dip after she'd left, that she'd written Rose begging to see her again. Michael accepted the story, and while she could sense his skepticism, she chose not to concern herself with it so long as she could get away.

Unlike her trip the weekend previous, this time Michael absolutely insisted on taking Rose to the mail boat, even if it did mean travelling all the way to Dun Laoghaire harbour in Dublin.

"I'll be back by Sunday evening," she told him with a curt kiss to his lips.

"Alright, take care," he said, watching as she boarded the ferry with her suitcase in hand.

What Rose didn't see when she turned her back to Michael was the expression of a man who was putting together the pieces, thus finally realising things may not be entirely as they seemed.