"Father, I'm going to visit Vera. I'll be back before dark." Rosalie hurriedly fit her warm fur hat over her carefully pinned blonde curls. She tugged on her matching new fur coat that Royce had bought her last week, right after they had spent the day at their wedding venue. It might have been the only time Royce accompanied her on one of her wedding planning visits, but he was very preoccupied with making sure his fiancée was well decorated after discovering she did not own a fine fur coat up to his standards. Tugging it on now, she felt weighed down, but knew that she wouldn't regret it once she was walking outside in the cold air. "I'm not planning on staying long. I'll be back for dinner." She assured him. "I just want to check up on Henry."

"Rosie, you know I don't like you walking around without an chaperone." His eyes peered over the top of the Sunday paper. A deep frown was etched into his brow and a scowl drug the corners of his mouth down as he precariously balanced a cigar in between his teeth.

"It's really not necessary." Rosalie rolled her eyes. She pulled on her gloves with an irritated huff. In less than a week she would be Mrs. Royce King II; if anyone dared to assault her they'd find themselves answering to her husband.

Mr. Hale grunted something noncommittal and seemed to be getting out of his chair to escort Rosalie despite her protests. Rosalie instead muttered a quick, "Love you!" before disappearing out the front door.

She walked briskly to Vera's house. The couple blocks between the two houses were busy with the bustle of the five 'o clock traffic. The sidewalks were busy with husbands returning home from a long day's work to their awaiting wives, folders and briefcases tucked into their long coats to shield their papers from the blustery spring day. She turned the corner on the last block, and arrived at the street with Benjamin and Vera's cottage.

Being truly alone for the first time in a while, she paused less than half a block away and looked down the street at Vera's small house. Her heart ached with pity for how small it was, though behind that dull throb was a twist of something else she had tried to beat down the past couple weeks. Jealousy.

Though Rosalie pitied her friend's lack of financial security, she couldn't help but notice with every passing day just how much Vera and Benjamin completely adored each other. The small house she looked up at now couldn't compare to the large mansion she would reside in week after next. The love Rosalie and Royce shared might not be as tender as her friends', but these things grew over time- or at least this was the theory that Rosalie had reverted back to. Mostly because of how badly she now craved a child of her own. The baby she adored somehow impossibly more and more with each passing day she visited helped her visualize the child of her own she would have as soon as possible after the wedding. Her son would be no less perfect than Vera's little Henry. Both she and her son would want for nothing.

She had been on numerous strolls to the park with Vera and Henry. Royce noticed this, despite not noticing many things, and he gifted the couple a beautiful sterling silver plated baby carriage. Vera and Benjamin had gushed at the gift, thanking him profusely, but of course Royce waved it off as if it were nothing. Showing her appreciation, Vera took the new carriage on every Sunday stroll.

Rosalie remembered she had been swamped with final dress fittings the month after Henry was born. On one of those afternoons it had been unseasonably warm- warm enough for Rosalie and Vera to both wear their spring dresses on their walk around the park. Rosalie, after not seeing Henry for that time, was immediately taken at his now slightly chubbier cheeks that made his little dimples more apparent on his sweet face. His dark curls were thick around his darling face and he was all smiles as he reached for his godmother.

"He never cries and he sleeps all night."

"Aren't you just the best little boy ever."

She shook herself out of her stupor and nodded to affirm to herself that her dreams were within her reach. In less than a week, she reminded herself, she would be on the path to have everything she wanted.

With a cursory knock at the door and a muffled "Come in!" from Vera and Benjamin, Rosalie let herself into the house. She spotted Vera seated on the loveseat with little Henry swaddled in her lap. Benjamin peaked his head around the kitchen doorframe to greet her before he disappeared again.

"Ben's just making us dinner. Have you eaten yet?" Vera spoke to Rosalie, but her eyes never left her baby boy.

Rosalie took a seat beside her, her hands twisting in her lap. "No thank you, I promised father I would be home before dinner. I just wanted to check on Henry and see how he was doing today."

Vera smiled, one that still shone brightly on her exhausted eyes. Dark circles and deep bags showed how tired she was, though she didn't like to admit it herself. Rosalie always noticed.

"Vera how long has it been since you've had some time for yourself?" Rosalie placed a hand over her friend's. Vera finally met her eyes, and the deep brown eyes seemed to sigh themselves.

Vera began to answer, but the words died in her throat as she genuinely didn't know. "Well. I suppose it's been a while…" she trailed off half-heartedly. She bounced little Henry, holding him close and he cooed in response.

Rosalie stood beside Vera, arms outstretched as an offering to hold the baby. Vera handed him to Rosalie, and stood likewise. Vera could feel her sore muscles stretch and couldn't hide the grimace as her joints popped loudly in time with the crackling fireplace.

"I'll take him for a bit," Rosalie offered. "Why don't you surprise Benjamin in the kitchen," Rosalie gave a quick wink.

Vera grinned mischievously; alone time between the couple had fallen out of priority with planning two weddings and worrying over her own pregnancy and now a newborn. She couldn't remember the last time she'd even kissed Benjamin without worrying about the baby.

Rosalie looked at her friend with concern. Vera had grown up quickly since the engagement, hardly the mousy nineteen year old that had walked with Rosalie in the park giggling over the first few bridal plans. No, Vera was a woman now; she was a wife and a mother, but it suited her. Despite the perpetual exhaustion, her best friend could see how happy Vera truly was.

It was true, unadulterated happiness.

Vera leaned over to kiss Rosalie on her cheek quickly before scuttling into the kitchen, shutting the door between the sitting room and the kitchen behind her.

Rosalie shook her head, chuckling to herself, before sitting down at the rocker beside the roaring fireplace. A stack of children's books, well-worn hand-me-downs, sat in an unkempt stack beside the chair. Rosalie shifted Henry in her arms to reach down with her free hand to select a title she hoped little Henry would like.

"Oh, The Story of Doctor Doolittle!" She grinned down at the threadbare cover, what might have been a first edition. "My mother used to read this one to me every night when I was five. What do you think, Henry?"

Henry looked up at Rosalie bright eyed and gave her a toothless smile. His wide brown eyes crinkled at the corners as he reached up towards a long curl that had escaped Rosalie's neat updo. "Oh no you don't," she whispered, stern as she tucked the hair back into the nape of her neck; she had learned that he liked pulling, with surprising strength, the very day he'd been born. His mouth opened further to show his gums and she couldn't help but smile back at him as if he were her whole world. She leaned over to kiss his forehead then played with the steadily growing mop of dark curls that adorned his head.

"Well that's settled," she stated, mockingly serious. She shifted Henry carefully in her arms, making sure his tiny head was well supported, and propped the book open between her knee and the armrest so that Henry could see the delightful illustrations from the crook in her arm that she supported him with.

She read to him for hours. She finished the story noticing that the sun had set and she hadn't heard a peep from Vera or Benjamin. Placing Henry, he was now half asleep again, in his bassinette in the corner of the room, she padded her way out of the room as to not startle him and opened the door to the kitchen.

Whatever had been the beginnings of dinner were now left scattered and unattended across the kitchen countertops. Flour and batter were sprinkled along the workspace, but no sign of Vera and Benjamin. The secondary door to the kitchen, however, was ajar.

Rosalie peaked around the door, knocking softly as the door creaked open further. Inside, she found the couple fast asleep in their guest bedroom. Benjamin, his mop of untidy hair littered with flour that seemed to cover him from head to toe, slept on his back with one lanky arm and leg draped over the side of the bed. His mouth hung open with thick sleep as drool dribbled down his chin. Vera, draped across the side of his body not hanging off of the bed was in an equally deep sleep. Her hair was a knotted mess and also suspiciously covered in flour, as was her dress and bare legs. The two held each other in their sleep and Vera unconsciously nestled closer into her husband's side.

The sight had frozen Rosalie mid step. She looked at her two closest friends and saw the same thing that she had always caught glimpses of, but had been trying to ignore for months on end. The way that the pair held each other, even in sleep, was something she had never been the recipient of and it was nevermore as glaringly obvious as it were right in this very moment as the jealousy tore through her heart and soul like a feral creature that had been caged for far too long.

Rosalie wanted to cry. She wanted to be angry, but she couldn't be anything. She stood there numb, feeling like a peeping tom encroaching on other's happiness as it truly hit her just how superficial her own relationship with her fiancée really was.

She clung to the doorframe and felt her eyes burn and her vision blurred, but the tears would not fall. Her feelings had been suppressed for so long, she wasn't quite sure how to feel. Unable to look at them any longer, she felt the overwhelming need to escape. She looked over her shoulder at the kitchen window behind her- the sky was properly dark now, later than she had expected leaving, and a light drizzle sprinkled against the houseplants that adored the windowsill. She needed to make her way home; her family was surely worried about her.

She turned and searched through the kitchen for a notepad and fountain pen. Finding one beside the rotary phone, she etched her note.

I didn't want to wake you. Henry is in his bassinette. Headed home for dinner.

All my love,

Rosalie