It had to be something in the water in Charming. It had to be.

That was the only explanation Denise could come up with for the fact that sometimes, everyone just acted so... off. It had started, of course, when Lyla had called to see if Denise wanted to come pick up Sofia. She figured that Juice had realized that it was probably not the best idea to watch the baby, to drive around with the baby when he was pissed off out of his mind. It was nice, she decided, that he was at least conscientious about it.

But Lyla had been so jumpy, so strange about handing off the baby, as thoughsomething was wrong - and when pressed about it, she laughed nervously, saying she really had to get back to something for work. Lyla was rarely so skittish, she was likely one of the most easygoing people Denise knew, but at the moment, the greater worry was about where Juice had run off to.

Denise understood that Juice wasn't taking all of the secrecy too well - and she understood that. She knew he'd be angry about it, but she knew at the end of the day that he understood. He knew that this was all to tie up all of the loose ends with her brother and with Marks, so they could just get on with their lives.

So, when he came home a few hours later, just past midnight, and went straight for the bedroom to turn on the shower, leaving a whiff of the smell of alcohol in his wake, Denise let him be. He was upset at her, and she cut him some slack for it. Sure, she'd been waiting up for him. But this was a rough patch. Rough patches happened. The silent treatment wouldn't kill her for a few hours.

Juice, however, hadn't let his wife see the mortified expression on his face when he walked in the door. As the hot, stinging needles of water from the showerhead poured down, he slumped onto the tile shower floor, burying his head in his hands.

This was never going to happen again. This was a mistake. This was an enormous mistake. He rubbed at the tender bruise on his face and gave a quiet groan as he replayed what had happened earlier that evening.

"What the fuck did you say about my wife?"

Juice felt his blood boil when he heard some stranger at the other end of the bar at the Hairy Dog say something - some snarky comment about 'that Juice sucker', and how his wife sure spent a lot of time with Jax Teller. Juice had previously been enjoying a couple of beers - and admittedly, a few shots - with Wendy to drink away their troubles when he'd heard it. Immediately, he leapt to his feet, tearing across the floor and grabbing the man by his collar and jamming a tightly-clenched fist right into his jaw, sending the man practically tumbling over the bar.

The man's friend, however, took the opportunity to land a blow right back, colliding his Juice's cheekbone and stunning him slightly while he stumbled back into someone who immediately grabbed him by the shoulders and helped him regain his footing, though it proved to be a challenge. Juice stumbled slightly, groaning and clutching his face before he was able to get back on his feet.

"Hey, hey - listen, buddy, fuck off, alright?" Wendy said shrilly, moving in front of Juice and perching her hands on her hips. "You talk shit about a man's wife, you take your blowback like a man, you fuckin' turds. Juice, let's get outta here."

"I need another beer-"

"No, I'm gonna take you back home and get some ice on that eye before your wife wonders what the fuck kinda trouble you got into," she snapped, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him out.

Juice realized as he was sitting in the passenger seat of Wendy's car that the drinks were finally starting to hit him, and he hadn't had a single bite to eat that day since breakfast. Great. He actually let out a laugh at the realization, a sleepy and drunken giggle at that. By the time they pulled up in front of Wendy's place, he could've already sworn that the whole world was spinning.

"You're a fuckin' idiot," Wendy slurred slightly, having had a few too many drinks herself. She normally wouldn't have driven at all in this state, but she couldn't very well have left Juice there to get his face bashed in, picking fights with anyone he could. She nudged him over to sit on the couch while she grabbed a few ice cubes and wrapped them in a paper towel. She walked over and held it out to himm only to realize that he was practically in a total stupor. He couldn't have even touched his finger to his nose without poking his eye out at this point.

"Goddammit, Juice," she groaned, leaning overso she could press the makeshift icepack to his face herself. "One of these days, you're gonna -"

Wendy's foot suddenly caught on the foot of the couch, and she toppled over, landing with a slight thud on top of Juice, who did nothing but grimace slightly in response.

For a brief moment, Wendy didn't move - it had just been so long since she'd been close to somebody like this. Sure, there was Jax. And Jax had needs. But he was always abrupt, to-the-point, never pausing to linger and let her actually feel warmth from him. But right now? Juice was so warm. He wasn't pulling away. Unintentionally, she pressed her body even closer to his. Just for the warmth, for the contact. It made sense in her head. She wasn't thinking that this was her friend's husband. He was just there.

Juice, for his part, was in a complete haze. All that made sense in his mind at the moment was that this morning, he'd been so close to making love to his wife again before Jax had shown up. The feeling of a warm body next to his, in his current state, set off something unintentional - a frustration and a need. Reflexively, his arm curled around the waist of the woman on top of him, and she brought her lips down hungrily onto his...

And that was it. After a while, he had woken up on Wendy's couch, undressed, with Wendy laying asleep on his lap. It didn't take a genius to deduce what had happened, and in his newfound state of sobriety, Juice had thrown on his clothes, left Wendy on the couch and walked all the way back to where his own car was waiting at the Hairy Dog.

After slamming his forehead onto the steering wheel in self-loathing, he drove back home to find his wife and daughter on the couch waiting for him - he couldn't even look at them.

So here he was in the shower, as though he could wash away what he had just done - and the worst part was, he knew that Denise didn't even suspect him of anything. She'd tried to say hello when she'd come in and he'd hurried right past her. She trusted him that much, she didn't even think of the possibility he had done it - the worst thing he could possibly do.

Juice knew he had fucked up - but if it was never going to happen again, if it had just been a mistake that would never be repeated, then telling Denise the truth would just cause more heartache for them both, wouldn't it? Wendy was a friend. Wendy was both of their friend. Juice knew Wendy would agree that it had just been a mistake, a trick of the alcohol. She had her tubes tied. Their would be no unpleasant surprises. This never needed to get out.

Juice scratched furiously at the sides of his head in frustration as the thoughts swirled violently in his head, trying to make sense of what he had just done. But none of it made sense. None of it did. He scrubbed furiously at his own skin, at his hands, at his face. He winced as his hand roved over the bruise on his cheekbone from the brief skirmish at the bar.

No one needed to know about this. No one needed to ever know.

By the time he got out of the shower, Denise was already asleep in bed, and he could hear the little music-playing nightlight playing in Sofia's nursery, which meant that she had gone to sleep as well. He gently laid down in bed next to Denise and nestled behind her, wrapping her arm around her waist. With a quiet noise, she snuggled up close to him, and despite the fact that he was riddled with guilt and a sense of unworthiness, he held her tightly.

He was sorry. God knew he was sorry, and he was going to make it up to her. But she could never know.

Denise woke up the next morning, rubbing her eyes gently and realizing that she was alone again. With a slight frown, she got up to go get Sofia dressed to bring over to Lyla's again, since Denise had an engagement photoshoot booked for a couple in Modesto. Juice gave her a hard time for still continuing to take gigs, as though money was going to run out anytime soon - between Juice's many side projects, and Denise's inheritance, their family was sitting pretty on a formidable amount of money. But Denise enjoyed working. She enjoyed being busy.

"You look exhausted," Lyla said when she opened the door for Denise. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Denise shrugged with a weak laugh. "Juice just got back in late last night."

"Did he?" Lyla asked, the same skittish expression returning to her face as from the night before. "Well... I hope nothing bad happened to him."

Denise blinked in mild confusion at her friend's comments. What reason was there to believe something bad had happened? Lyla cleared her throat, waving her hand dismissively before Denise could even ask the question. "Never mind," she laughed. "Hand the little princess over to Aunt Lyla, Chinadoll."

People were strange, Denise thought to herself after she'd gotten Sofia settled and said goodbye to her and Lyla for the day. People were acting very, very strange.

She tried not to let it bother her too much or to interfere with her work, though - usually, when something was bothering her this much, her work turned out strangely better than usual, because she doubled her efforts in order to compensate. When she wrapped up, she decided to head home to rest for a while before picking Sofia back up from Lyla's, only to find that Juice was home early as well, waiting for her on the couch with dinner waiting.

"Hey, babe," he said with a wide grin, getting up and hugging her tightly as she entered - she put her camera bag down on the ground and hesitated before returning the hug with a confused grin.

"Hey," she said with a weak laugh. "What's going on? Did I - did I miss something?" It would be hilarious, Denise thought, if she was the one to forget some kind of anniversary or milestone, and Juice remembered. Hilarious and terrible at the same time.

"No - nothin', I just wanted to do somethin' for you," he said with that lopsided, boyish grin as he leaned over to place a brief kiss omn his wife's lips before leaning his forehead against hers and draping his hands on her waist. "I just figured, you know, we could have dinner, watch a movie on the couch - do somethin' together before that event you got goin' on at the park," he shrugged. "I - I called Lyla and asked if she could watch Fifi for a couple more hours."

"Oh, you talked to her?" Denise asked with a relieved grin and Juice led her over to the couch and they both flopped down tiredly next to each other. "Thank God. She was acting so weird, I was worried you two weren't getting along or something."

Juice tried his best not to let on when he tensed at the mention of Lyla acting weird. He and Wendy had dropped the kids off at the same time at Lyla's house. If anyone were to get suspicious about something having happened, it would have been her. But obviously, Denise didn't know. Maybe, Juice decided, Lyla was on the same page. Shit happened. Mistakes happened. There was no need to cause Denise more pain over it.

All he could do was make this night the best stay-home date night that he could - and he tried his damnedest to make it happen. They watched old Audrey Hepburn movies together on the couch like old times, eating dinner and having a couple drinks.

"I miss being like this," Juice spoke up suddenly, wrapping an arm aroudn Denise's waist once they'd finished eating and were focused on the movie. "Like back in Stockton, or up at the cabin - before we got stuck here in Charming," he admitted honestly. He had to let some of this out, he decided, if he was going to keep the larger secret. To his surprise, Denise didn't react poorly. Instead, she leaned her head onto his shoulder with a sigh.

"You know we're only stuck for now, right?" Denise said, her voice sounding more tired than he'd heard her sound for a long time, even when she'd been in the hospital. His heart practically throbbed with guilt, hearing her like this. "I'm just - I'm glad I have you. I'm glad you and me and Fifi are all still in this together."

"Me too, babe," Juice said weakly, feeling his throat constricting as though resisting the urge to just throw the truth into the open and get it off of his chest. He wasn't a bad guy. He didn't want to be one of the bad guys. He didn't want to be like Jax, who failed and failed as a husband, who strayed all the time as though it was one of his duties. Juice didn't want to be that guy. One time didn't make him one of them. It couldn't. "Me too."

"Thank you," Denise said, shifting and smiling up at him. The strange expression on his face, however, left her feeling uneasy - fearful, even that he didn't understand. SHe knew she'd come short. She knew that sometimes, Jax walked all over them as though he was meant to come first. "For - for being here for me while I do what I gotta do. This is all for us, baby. I know I - I probably piss you off. All the time," she laughed weakly. "And I know maybe you feel like... like I keep putting you second. But everything I'm doing is for us. You know that, right?"

"Of course. Of course I know that," Juice stammered, feeling the guilt bubbling up inside of him with every word that she spoke. He wanted to beg her not to thank him, to not make this worse for him, but he couldn't. It killed him that he had to look her in the eye and listen to her thank him, after what he'd done, as though he was some kind of super-husband. As though he hadn't just messed up in the worst possible way. "Promise me somethin'?" he asked suddenly, feeling almost child-like. Denise's brow furrowed in concern, and she cocked her head to one side.

"What is it?"

"Promise that - no matter what, at the end of everythin'," Juice said, the fear in his voice now starting to seep through. "It's gonna be you and me and Fifi in the end. Promise."

Juice knew it wasn't fair, asking her to make that promise without knowing why he was asking it. He knew it wasn't fair to let her keep thinking that she was falling short as his wife, and that she was the one who should have been thankful for him sticking around. But needed to hear it. He needed it more anything.

"Of course it will be," Denise said with an incredulous laugh. "You and me and Sofia. I promise."

With that, she leaned over and kissed him soundly, her hand gently sliding up his chest to rest at the base of his neck, her fingertips gently pressing into the tense muscles there. Her lips moved down over his cheek, down his neck, to his collarbone, and Juice felt himself respond to her touch immediately. He didn't deserve her right now - he knew he didn't - but he wanted her worse than ever. And she deserved her husband's undivided attention. He quickly swept her off of her feet and carried her to the bedroom.

He owed it to her to make her as happy as he could, he decided to himself as he laid her down on the bed, roving his hands slowly over her petite form and relishing every moment as though he thought she might disappear at any moment. Maybe he didn't deserve happiness, he thought to himself, but his wife did.

A/N's

I'm so sorry! I know you all asked me in reviews not to do it, but I did it. Just hang in there and trust me that this needed to happen for the story, and that things just need to get worse before they can get better. And boy, are they still going to get worse. In any case, thank you all for your reviews and your support. I have to admit, I'm a little paranoid about you guys jumping ship for this Juice/Wendy thing, but I hope you'll all stick around. I promise, it's just another hurdle that is needed to move the story forward.

The next chapter will be on its way soon as well, and it will take some of the spotlight slightly off of Juice and Denise's predicament, but we will most definitely be coming back to that very soon, in a very big way.

Anyway, until next time, cheers!