Carla stood in the bathroom, watching as the tub slowly filled with rushing water. She gently squeezed some bubble bath gel under the water flowing from the tap, before placing it back under the sink, and stepping out into the flat.

Peter watched from the kitchen as she re-entered the main room and headed over to the chair where Rob had been sitting minutes earlier. She paused for a moment, glancing about the area before bending down and looking under the chair.

"I moved your bag to the bedroom," he stated kindly as he flung the dish towel he was using over his shoulder, "I figured you'd want some privacy to change."

Carla pressed her lips together apprehensively, "thanks," she mumbled before heading towards the bedroom, nearly running into Simon as he came barreling out of his room, and he swiftly followed her into the master bedroom.

"I can get you more pillows while you're in the bath, Carla," he said excitedly, "and I can spray some of that purple misty stuff you like on the bed and all!"

"Ahh that purple stuff would be lavender," she chuckled as she dug her robe, underwear, and pajamas out of her bag, "and that's very sweet of you Si, but I'll be sleeping on the sofa tonight."

"But that's not very comfortable. Why wouldn't you want to stay in here?" he asked innocently

Carla kept her back to him, her eyes scanning the bed beneath her bag and she bit her lip as images of Tina and Peter plagued her mind...

"...And no matter what he tries to tell you to spare your feelings, Carla, it weren't just some fling, and it certainly weren't a one-off," Tina's voice echoed in her ears, "I mean even the first time we were together it were more than once: once on the sofa, then we moved to the bedroom right after. The bed you share with your husband," she scoffed, eyeing Carla up and down, "obviously your marital bed means about as much to him as the honeymoon suite did on your wedding night, eh? Actually, scratch that: it means about as much to him as his vows to you did, before he kissed me..."

"Umm," Carla breathed out, her eyes squeezing shut in an attempt to halt the images that stabbed at her heart like a knife, "because the doctor said I should try to sleep a little propped up tonight," she lied, "And I have a better chance of staying in that position on the couch than in the bed, love."

"Oh," Simon said, "okay, then I'll set up the sofa for you!" he answered excitably, grabbing a pillow from the bed and rushing out to the main room.

Carla felt the tears welling in her eyes, unable to remove her gaze from the duvet and sheets of the bed she had once shared with her husband.

"Well you weren't exactly an unwilling participant in that betrayal, were you Tina?" Carla responded back, "you obviously made a conscious choice to hang around long enough for all them other guests to leave so you two could be alone."

"Carla-,"

For a brief minute, Tina looked almost guilty and Carla couldn't help the derisive sneer that passed her lips as she openly mocked her, "Carla!" She laughed, "What, Tina? You're sorry? Sorry that it ever happened? Sorry that you kissed my husband on my wedding night-"

"But if you didn't get drunk and pass out then none of this would have happened-"

"Oh, I'm sorry it's the butterfly effect is it?" Carla chuckled humourlessly, "So, what: I passed out, so you copped off with Peter, Peter dumped you, so you tried to seduce him back, he starts drinking and goes to rehab, and I find out? So, what's next then, Tina? Eh? I dump Peter, and he runs to you like he 'always planned'? Only it doesn't seem like it were his plan at all, eh? If he chose to turn to the drink instead of dumping me, is it?"

Tina placed her hands on her hips, the guilt she felt slowly being replaced by white-hot jealousy as she felt the truthfulness of Carla's words hit her like a drum. Her jealousy began to overpower her senses and she narrowed her eyes at the woman in front of her, wanting nothing more now than to make her hurt as much as she was.

"So come on, then!" Carla continued, "when exactly did this great sex-fest begin then, eh?" the snappiness in her voice masking the pain of her heart shattering in her chest, "When I was in Paris and you had all that time together without fear of me catching you while you both stabbed me in the back?"

Tina smiled knowingly, "no," she folded her arms across her chest, seeing movement out of the corner of her eyes and watching as Tracy Barlow inched her way around the corner from Barlow's Buys, surprisingly not relishing in Carla's predicament, but actually looking upon her sister-in-law quite sympathetically. Tina took a deep breath; she knew that accosting Carla in front of her flat would draw quite the crowd, but she couldn't back down now, "the first time we made love was the night before New Years Eve," she stated loudly, wanting everyone - especially Carla-, to know exactly how long her and Peter have been in love, "when you were still very much around."

Carla exhaled the breath she didn't realize she had been holding, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she softly collapsed her back against the door of the bookies flat, "the night before New Years Eve?"

"Yes," Tina replied smugly, "and it were multiple times..." Carla didn't say anything for a few moments, her mind still trying to wrap itself around this information.

"So-," Carla finally responded, raising her eyes to look at the sky and willing herself to not break in front of the young woman she had come to deem as a friend, "-so the night I were in Roy and Hayley's flat, curled up next to Hayley in her bed. You know, the night I was comforting my dying friend, Tina" her eyes came back to rest on the young woman, who now looked visibly uncomfortable once more, "the night that I had tried to convince her that even though this place might sometimes feel like the loneliest place in the world, that she was never alone. The night that in spite of all of her bravado and acceptance, that she admitted to me how scared she was," she couldn't stop the sob that escaped her throat, " So, on that night Tina, despite you and my husband both knowing exactly where I was and why, you were both rolling around like a pair of cats in heat all over my flat?" Tina glanced sideways, her embarrassed eyes now landing next to Tracy and on a very quiet Roy Cropper; his expression towards her one of utter disgust and disappointment, and she realized it was the first time she'd ever seen that look upon the gentle cafe owner's face. "I saw you that night," Carla continued, her voice thick with emotion, as Tina carefully turned her gaze back towards her, "I told you how poorly Hayley was doing, and how upset I was and-," she furrowed her eyes at the younger woman, "-and you acted like you actually cared, while all the while, you had just come from bedding my husband. And this is something you're proud of? You're so proud of what you and my husband got up to, enough to declare it in front of all these people, just to wound me more than the two of you already 'ave done?" Carla choked out incredulously

"Wow, you really are a piece of work Tina, you know that?" Tracy shot at the young woman, and Carla closed her eyes in utter mortification, her hand instinctively moving to her abdomen and protectively rubbing circles over it, as if to shield her unborn baby from the humiliation its mother was experiencing.

Carla felt a hand rest supportively on her shoulder, shaking her from the memory that had taken over,

"Hey, are you okay, love?" Peter asked her softly but was taken aback when she spun towards him, her water-filled eyes blazing.

"Don't you dare touch me!" She nearly screamed at him.

"Car-"

"That night I went to see Hayley," Carla interrupted him, her voice shaking with a mixture of anger and heartbreak, "the first night you bedded your mistress all over this flat," she spat at him, "I came home and you were vacuuming the sofa cushions, and tidying up," she let out an incredulous laugh, "God, I should have seen it then," she scolded herself, turning slightly and running both hands through her hair, "And you put the sheets in the wash, acting like you did it all for me." She turned back to face him, brushing the back of her hand under her nose and across her cheek to catch the tears that had fallen there, "oh no, no, I forgot! You did it because, 'you had to keep busy. You were here worrying about me, all night', isn't that right, Pe'er?"

She crossed her arms across her chest, as the tears poured down her face, and she glanced around, "So don't you dare ask me if I'm okay! I see you and her everywhere in here, laughing at me behind my back while you got up to your dirty little trysts,-"

"Carla, no-" Peter tried to assure her but she wasn't having any of it, as she grabbed her change of clothes,

"God, I hate being in this place!" she sobbed as she darted around him and headed for the bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it.

Peter exhaled a tearful breath, and slowly sank down onto the bed, his head dropping into his hands.

"What did you do say to her?" Simon asked accusingly as he came around the corner.

"Nothing, Si," Peter answered, "Carla is just not very comfortable around me right now."

"Is that the real reason why she won't stay in here?"

Peter nodded, "It's too painful for her, love."

Simon nodded, "but it's going to be hard to take care of her when she's out on the sofa."

"I know..."

"I have an idea..."

Peter's head popped up, "what do you mean, Si?"

"I have an idea of how we can keep an eye on Carla tonight while she stays on the couch."

Peter smiled at his son, "tell me then, what's that?"

Simon beckoned him with his finger, "follow me!"

Peter followed his son into his bedroom and watched as he pulled out a box from his closet and smirked.

Simon looked up hopefully to his dad, "we gotta get it set up now while she's in the bath. Then we can bring it out when she falls asleep..."

Carla stirred on the sofa, clutching a pillow to her body as the sun's rays poured into the main room of the bookies flat. It took her a moment to adjust to her surroundings, remembering that she wasn't in the spare room at Roy's, but back in the flat she had shared with Peter and his son for the better part of two years. She must have passed out during the movie, following her bath, and either Simon or Peter must have covered her body with a duvet before they went to bed. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, cuddling the pillow to her ever closer, before her ears caught the sound of a slight snore.

She opened her eyes and looked to the floor beside the couch, where she lay on her side, and couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips.

The coffee table had been pushed away, and there, laying on an inflatable mattress a foot away from the sofa, was a thoroughly conked out Simon: his body twisted in the duvet, a book resting on his chest, and taking up the majority of the mattress, and next to him, lay her husband: his legs up on the mattress, while his back and head lay on the floor next to it.

Carla snuggled down into her pillow, and clutched the other closer to her, her eyes unable to leave the image before her. She leaned forward a bit to see what book was sprawled on Simon's chest and felt tears prick the corners of her eyes as the title became clear: Best Baby Names for 2014

She brought a hand to her mouth to cover the sob that threatened to escape, and she slowly inhaled and exhaled to quell her emotions. Her eyes darted about the room, and fell on the clock. It was still much too early to get up, so she snuggled down a bit further into the sofa, her eyes watching as Simon stirred next to her and rolled onto his side so he was now facing her, his eyes still closed as his breathing regulated to a slow, steady rhythm once more. With a deep exhale of her own, Carla let her arm drop forwards to drape over the side of the sofa, next to her, and fell back into a sleep herself,

...while unbeknownst to her, Simon had peeked up at her...

Peter awoke about two hours later. As he lifted his head forward he hissed in pain, bringing his hand up to massage the back of his neck that, having been in an awkward position for an extended period of time, cracked loudly. His eyes squinted as they brought the room into focus. He had been half kicked off the flamin' air mattress by his son, but he couldn't help but chuckle as he saw him now curled up on his side into the tiniest ball possible and facing Carla, who lay halfway on her stomach on the sofa, her arm dangling over the side, while her other hand lay relaxed, close to her face. Peter pushed himself up from his place on the floor, wanting to get a start on the breakfast he and Simon planned on making for Carla, when he paused suddenly: his eyes catching something he had never seen before.

There, resting in Carla's dangling hand, was his son's; his fingers wrapped loosely around Carla's almost protectively.

Peter felt his heart flutter at the sight. After all this time, Simon had well and truly warmed up to Carla...