Emily settled herself on the edge of the pool, the movement slow and awkward around her gradually burgeoning belly. She dipped her feet into the cool water, splashing about a little, the scent of chlorine rising up around her – the water a welcome relief from the increasingly oppressive heat of the Irish summer.

Sleep had eluded her that night, dark thoughts of how well and truly she'd fucked up her life with a small moment of weakness settling unshakably in her mind, and she was rather hoping to avoid having Ian ask what was wrong, saving her from having to lie to him, so she'd given up the pretense of sleep altogether.

She didn't know how she was going to face him now, how she was going to continue living every moment by his side like nothing was wrong, like nothing had changed, all while knowing the child in her womb wasn't his...

She'd honestly, in her heart of hearts, thought the baby was Ian's. Maybe she'd been naive for believing that things would work out the right way, the easy way just because she hoped real hard. With everything in her, she'd hoped and wished and prayed, begging any God who'd listen to just once grant her this favour that she absolutely didn't deserve, but for the innocent child inside her who didn't deserve to start their life this way.

And now... There was no easy way out of this – no right way... No matter what she did, someone was going to get hurt. No matter what she did, her child was going to lose.

"Boy, I really stepped in it this time, didn't I, Little One?" she murmured to her belly, smoothing out her the fabric of her pyjamas over the swell of her stomach. "And you're the one that has to suffer the consequences..."

She gave a dry little laugh, devoid of any humour. "You're going to get away with murder when you're a teenager because you can always blackmail me with this." She paused, thought for a moment. "I'd say literally...but Ian isn't your Daddy."

She softly stroked her belly, sadness darkening her eyes.

"I hope you don't grow up to hate me, Little One. Though, I wouldn't blame you if you did... I really fucked up your family and now, no matter what I do, there's no coming back from it. Either I take away your father for the sake of my marriage or I ruin my marriage for a big 'what if?' with your father..."

She shook her head, sighed.

"And I don't even know if I want to be with him... I know that sounds awful, considering I had no problem fucking him, but I was vulnerable and stupid and wasn't thinking about the consequences. He was just...there and I guess that's what I needed at the time. I don't know if it would work long-term."

A pause.

"Maybe I should just pack my things and run away." She gave an unladylike snort. "What do you think? Could you and I make it on our own?" She prodded near her belly button as if in search of a reaction. "Yeah, me neither," she said after a long silence.

The gate surrounding the pool creaked as it opened and her heart leapt into her throat, wondering who'd come after her and how much they'd overheard.

Wordlessly, Ian settled beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his chest, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. In spite of herself, she sighed contentedly, relaxing into his embrace. She couldn't help it...whoever he might've been, whatever she might've done, he was still her husband and she drew comfort from his presence.

After several silent moments but for the chirp of crickets in the field beyond the perfectly manicured yard and the mournful hooting of a far off owl, he murmured, "Baby keeping you up?" His hand crept along her stomach, almost without conscious thought.

"A troublemaker, like their father," she agreed, swallowing down the rising guilt at the blatant lie, watching his hand move so tenderly across her belly, with so much love for a child that wasn't his...she blinked rapidly to keep back the tears that wanted to well up at the thought.

"A troublemaker, am I, Love?" he repeated, brow raised, blissfully unaware of her emotional turmoil, all the things left unsaid between them that would someday soon bring his world crashing down around him.

She nodded readily, opened her mouth to insist that he was, but before she could get the words out, she had a mouthful of pool water as he pushed her in. When she resurfaced, he was doubled over with laughter. "Ian!" she shrieked.

He attempted to plaster on an innocent expression, but it was decidedly ruined by his inability to quash his mischievous grin.

"I'm going to kill you," she growled, narrowing her eyes at him as she brushed her wet hair out of her face.

"Is that any way to speak to your loving husband?" he asked with mock ingenuousness.

"My loving husband better help me out of this pool or, so help me, God..." She extended a hand, waiting for him to pull her out of the water with a pointed expression on her face.

"Oh, no..." He held his hands out of her reach. "I'm not about to fall for that one, Love. You're going to pull me in with you."

She raised a brow, hand still extended, waiting.

He shrugged, plunged in the pool with her.

"You're crazy," she insisted with a shake of her head, but she said it fondly as she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning in to kiss him, ignoring every little voice, every instinct that told her how very wrong this was. She couldn't stop loving him any more than she could stop the world from turning.

"Only for you, Love," he murmured, one hand tangling in her hair, keeping her close. "Only for you." He kissed her soundly, one hand creeping along her thigh, up under the hem of her nightgown.