By the time 11 o'clock rolls around, Bill's eyes are starting to droop and it's getting harder and harder to stifle his yawns. At around 8 o'clock the neighbors let his boys call him to say goodnight (although they seemed far more interested in talking to Laura than to him), and now, as he tears his eyes away from the television hanging from the ceiling, he realizes that Laura has fallen asleep hunched over her mother's bed. He sighs and quirks a smile in her direction.

"So, you just got out of a divorce, huh?"

Bill starts as Judith Roslin, who is apparently not asleep, starts talking out of the blue.

"Uh, yes ma'am, I did. About a month ago, officially."

"Unofficially?"

Bill turns away from the TV to face Laura's mother. He knew this had to be coming soon; it might as well be now.

"Unofficially our marriage was over a long time ago."

"I see. Was it your fault?"

Well, now he knows where Laura gets her promptness. "Partly. I could have been around more. I could have been smarter, tried harder. But she, my ex-wife, is . . . well, she's far from innocent. She's paying the price for that now."

"Oh?"

"She's in jail, Mrs. Roslin." Bill chalks up a grim smile. He doesn't want to go into more detail than that, and he's glad when Mrs. Roslin doesn't pry any further.

"I see. Do you still love her?"

"Love," he says thoughtfully. It takes him a few moments to continue, and he can feel Mrs. Roslin's green eyes analyzing him through every second of it. He's afraid of saying the wrong thing, but he can't bring himself to lie. "Can you define it?"

"Hmm, answering a question with a question. You're not off to a very good start now are you, Mr. Adama."

As Bill's face contorts to reflect his horror, Mrs. Roslin smiles. "I'm only teasing," she says. "It's a good question," she adds, eyeing him thoughtfully. "How would you describe the love you have for your children?"

"They're everything to me," Bill says at once. "I'd do anything for them."

"That's right. In my experience, love is putting someone's needs above everyone else's – including yours. You think you'd know it if you loved someone, wouldn't you? It's supposed to be simple. I love my husband. I couldn't live without him. Well, I might be able to survive, physically, but I'd never be the same. I'd certainly never be able to love like that again. I already gave my whole self to him – he has my heart forever. It would be impossible for me to give it to someone else. I could care about someone, I could possibly marry again, but it wouldn't be the same. If you love your ex-wife, Mr. Adama, don't you dare come near my daughter. She's nobody's second best. She's nobody's replacement. If she gives her heart to someone, she should get one back, not bits and pieces of a broken soul. That's not fair to her. She deserves better."

Bill sits in silence, his eyes on the floor.

"I don't," he says finally, quietly. He looks up. "I don't love Carolanne. We don't love each other. We were 'in love' once. We were good together. But being good together isn't enough, no matter how much you want it to be. I wanted it to be. But we were committed to our kids, to our marriage, not to each other. I'll always care about her, I still miss her, the way she used to be, but . . . What we had wasn't real." He shakes his head and scoffs. "That's not love."

Bill lets out a heavy sigh. It's taken him a long time to finally say those words aloud. To even think them. But from the way it hurts, he knows they're true. Mrs. Roslin's eyes are still piercing his skull, but she nods.

"It's different with her, you know." Bill nods in Laura's direction, glancing at her fondly before returning his gaze to Mrs. Roslin.

"How can you tell?"

"Because she was just the schoolteacher tutoring my son until one day, she wasn't. It's simple, like you said. It's never been that simple before. Mrs. Roslin," Bill scoots forward in his seat, "I want you to know that–"

Mrs. Roslin holds up her hand. "Stop. You passed." She smiles. Bill smiles back, and let's out a relieved sigh. There are a few moments of silence then, and Bill lets them pass. Mrs. Roslin looks like she's thinking hard.

"My daughter's a special girl," she says.

"Yes, she is."
"No, no . . . Listen, Mr. Adama. There's something you have to understand. Laura has been through hard times, she's going through a hard time now, and there are hard times ahead of her. We're talking about a girl who has never known peace. She hasn't been able to afford the luxury of love in a very long time, and she's taking a big chance with you. It's dangerous for her, and she knows it. You cannot break her heart – do you hear me? If you think her life might be too much for you, if you can't handle her past, present, and future, you need to leave now. Let me make this crystal clear." She leans over, piercing Bill with an unnerving stare and an icy expression. "If you break that poor girl's heart, you will have hell's fury to face, whether I'm here to give it to you or not. She has more people who care about her than she knows. Do you understand?"

Bill gulps, nodding. It's hard to believe that such a sweet face could so quickly turn terrifying.

"Yes ma'am. I understand."

"Good." Mrs. Roslin smiles and leans back. "Good."