After the party guests had left, June found Nick pacing around his room like a caged tiger. The nightlight was the only illumination, and Nichole snored contentedly in her crib. June stepped in, and softly closed the door behind her. "You know the first time I decided I liked you?" she asked without preamble. "When you asked me not get tuna at Loaves and Fishes, just because you just weren't a big fan. It was the first funny thing anyone had said to me in Gilead."

"It wasn't that funny," he sulked.

"It was the first normal conversation I'd had in a year." She moved closer, took his face in her hands like she used to. "I liked you then. I always liked you. It wasn't about what Serena wanted, wasn't about getting pregnant or what might happen to me if I didn't. I just wanted to be around you." She paused, then added in a whisper, "You were never a stud dog to me. I loved you."

"Don't," he pleaded. He took a step away from her and averted his eyes. Her proximity affected him too much. With her hair loose, he could easily smell her shampoo, a different brand than she'd used in Gilead. Her hands were soft against his cheeks. She was wearing makeup, not much, but enough to accent the lips which he desperately wanted to kiss. And her bright blue eyes were looking at him intently, making his insides flip over. "Don't," he repeated.

She bit her lip. That did not help quell his desire. "Luke's just insecure."

"You think?"

"He's known me for twelve years, but he doesn't really get me anymore. I'm…different than I used to be. I don't say anything about Gilead, but you keep translating for me. It makes him feel, I don't know, incompetent as a husband."

"Well, maybe you could've told him yourself that you don't like red dresses." Nick immediately regretted his snappy tone. He wasn't annoyed at June; he knew she couldn't yet articulate much about Gilead.

His tone didn't bother her, anyway. "Yeah, I should have said something. I just…I don't want him to ever picture me there."

Nick sat down on the edge of his bed. "But you were there. And he's never gonna 'get you' if you don't talk to him. Explain it, June."

She shook her head. "He doesn't need to know."

"He wants to know. He wants to understand you." He finally looked straight at her. "If you just keep running to me every time you want to talk about Gilead, his jealousy is never going away. You're making it worse."

June knew she was the bone of contention that these two men were fighting over, and he was right—sharing her deepest traumas with Nick but not Luke was not helping matters. But…"You understand me, he doesn't."

"That's not how marriage works, though. You're gonna wreck your marriage believing that shit." Nick thought briefly, painfully, of Eden; he'd never opened up to her at all, not even a little, and it hadn't taken her more than a month to give up on him. He just hoped Luke loved his wife enough to wait for her. They'd figure it out eventually.

Nick sat on the narrow balcony outside the apartment, staring into the night and trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do with his life.

"I didn't know you smoked," Luke said quietly from behind him.

Blaine shrugged, taking a drag. "I don't anymore. But somebody left a pack here. My mother used to smoke Marlboros, and the smell reminds me of her." He glanced at Luke. "I quit when Nichole was born. It was the only thing I could do for her, really. The Waterfords wouldn't let me near her, scared I was going to grab her and run away or something. I only got to hold her one time, and that was only because Rita was guarding the door."

"Well," Luke said as he sat down next to the younger man, "you got Nichole the hell out of Gilead. That's something. And you got her parents out, too. So I'd say you've done a lot more for your daughter than just quit cigarettes." He paused. "More than I did for Hannah."

"You survived."

"Yeah, well, that really didn't help anyone." He pointed at the Marlboros. "May I?"

"Sure." Nick picked up the matches and lit one for Luke.

"We've all got our vices. I turn into a great big asshole when I get drunk, and say things I regret." He touched Nick's arm. "I am sorry."

He shrugged. "Me too. We both just needed to blow off some steam."

"Yeah, that's not exactly how June sees it. She's pissed at me. We just had our first nice long fight, and she, uh, set me straight about the nature of your relationship. Why'd you lie to me?"

"About what?" He knew what.

"You kinda led me to believe that you two were just friends, y'know, only sleeping together to get her pregnant. All that 'the only safe handmaid is a pregnant handmaid' stuff."

Nick put out his cigarette. He wasn't really smoking it, anyway. "Well, that last part's actually true. She was a lot safer pregnant."

"Hm. June phrased it a little differently. She said you were lovers, in love, who made love for pretty much two years straight til the day you left Gilead. Even mentioned the fantastic lovemaking you'd had the day before you got to Canada. She used the word love a lot."

Nick laughed shortly and ran a hand over his eyes. "Oh, God, she really is pissed at you."

"Yeah, I'm definitely on the couch tonight." After a moment of silence and a drag on the Marlboro, he asked without malice, "So you're still in love with her?"

Yes, Nick thought in desperation. But he spoke as neutrally as he could. "What I want doesn't matter. She's married to you. I'm just here for Nichole. And 'cause I don't have anywhere else to go."

"Is that a yes?"

"She's your wife."

"Yeah, but she was my wife for the last two years too," Luke pointed out.

"For most of that time, we thought you were dead. Killed in the forest while she was running with Hannah."

"Til you met me in a Toronto bar."

""Well, actually a Mexican diplomat had told June just before that. But being in Canada, you might as well have been on another planet. She really didn't think she'd ever see you again. It wasn't, you know…." Nick trailed off, unable to say the word adultery.

"I do understand," Luke murmured. And he did. June's attentions towards Nick drove him crazy, but he couldn't blame her for it. She had a baby with the man—a baby she'd barely gotten to see until now—and another was moving around in her belly. Of course she felt a bond with him; that would never go away. Nor did Luke fault Nick for being in love with her. At least he had good taste in women.

"In that bar," Luke said, "you told me she was pregnant with Waterford's baby."

Nick winced. "Sorry for that. I hated saying it. But I didn't want to get into a bar fight with you. Wouldn't be very diplomatic on my first trip abroad." He paused. "I also didn't know who was eavesdropping. I didn't want to risk June's safety."

Goddamned near everything he does seems to be for her safety. Luke admired that."I wish you hadn't named Waterford, though. 'Cause I hated the baby when I met her. Even before I met her. I just couldn't stop thinking of some rapist's baby growing inside June like a parasite."

Nick said nothing to that.

"I know it's not Nichole's fault." Luke shook his head. "I'm still a little drunk, saying things I shouldn't be. I love that little girl now, I really adore her. Those feelings passed after knowing her for a few days. After Moira told me I was full of shit." He finished his cigarette. "I don't know why I'm telling you this."

"No, it's okay, honesty is good." He was silent for a moment, thinking of something to share. "I didn't tell you about June and me because it doesn't do you any good to know. It's moot, and it hurts you. She made her decision—I knew she'd go back to you if she got out. She decided that as soon as she learned you were alive. But by then, I was already…" he stopped, then finished his thought. "In love with her."

"Deep in love?"

" 'Willing to die for her' love." Nick stood, suddenly tired. He gestured to the ashtray. "You should brush your teeth before bed."

Luke spoke gently. "Hey, could you maybe just quit starting your sentences with 'you should' and explain the why instead?"

Nick paused. "Good point. The smell of cigarettes reminds June of Serena Waterford, who used to smoke on Ceremony nights, and uh, that truck to Canada." He tilted his head. "Are we good, Luke?"

"Yeah, we're good." No deception in his tone. "We should go through the apartment and throw out all the cigarettes. And ban them from our house."

It was the first time Luke had used we and our when speaking to Nick about their shared life.