Suspicion left a sour taste in Roger's mouth, even when it was well-founded. Every time Mimi showed up late, and especially the times she didn't show up at all, his mind wandered into unbidden fantasies – although perhaps "fantasies" wasn't quite the right word, since fantasy implied pleasure – about what it was Mimi was doing. When she came home late, muttering a clichéd apology, all he could see was April. It was a comparison he hated, but one which seemed unavoidable.

What Roger lacked in happiness, however, he made up for in romance. He was spontaneous, passionate, loyal, attentive… but her continued absence made him bitter, and the fought about nothing. Roger would attempt to reunite with Mimi by being more romantic, more passionate, and so when she was late again or he caught her innocently "passing by" one of The Man's places, he only got more hurt and angry.

Betrayal is a vicious cycle.

Yet on the other hand, Roger could never bring himself to accuse Mimi outright. He skirted around the subject, mocking her excuses and making off-hand remarks layered with subtext, but she either genuinely didn't catch on or refused to. Either way, Roger was terrified of being right, and so kept his mouth shut.

It was even more painful to think that Mimi might be shooting up without him. Though Roger had given up heroin, and vowed never to go back, there was still a tiny part of him that missed it, that still wanted its false happiness, that was angry not because Mimi was lying to him, but because she wasn't inviting him to join her. That part usually lost Roger's internal battles.

What Mimi didn't understand, he knew, was that drugs, intrinsically linked to April, represented all the most painful and haunting memories of his life. They were a symbol of all the darkest parts of him, and his triumph over addiction had made him a different person, if not perhaps a better one. For Mimi to bring drugs back into his life was to link their relationship, which was good and healthy and beautiful, with turmoil and despair. And the one thin Roger could not stand, even in something as simple as a wrong note, was the destruction of beauty.

He tried to search Mimi's face for some clue that he was wrong, that his suspicion was unfounded, but all he ever saw was affection. And that only made his guilt worse. If Roger believed something of Mimi that wasn't true, just who was betraying who?

Suspicion left a sour taste in Alison's mouth, especially if it wasn't well-founded. Yet every time she waited for Benny to come home late, her mind ran wild with nightmares about what he could be getting up to. And when he did eventually arrive, apologising profusely, all she heard in his detailed explanations was her father's resounding "I told you so". Benny had never entirely won Mr. Grey's approval, especially with that Avenue B housing protest debacle at Christmas, and Alison's entire family was virtually counting the months until the marriage broke up. It was a situation she hated, but with Benny's habit of staying at the office late, one which seemed unavoidable.

What Alison lacked in happiness, however, she made up for in affection. She was loving, caring, loyal, attentive… but Benny's continued absence made her nervous and emotional, and they bickered over nothing. She would attempt to patch things up by being more wifely, more attentive, and so when he got home late again, or called her from a bar, she only got more hurt and suspicious.

Betrayal is a vicious cycle.

Yet on the other hand, Alison could never bring herself to accuse Benny outright, even in her own mind. She skirted around the subject, not asking for details about his "business meetings" or calling unexpectedly, afraid of what she might learn. She was terrified of being right, and so kept her mouth shut.

It was even more painful to think that Benny might really be in meetings or talking to clients. There was a tiny part of Alison that considered coming second to work even worse than coming second to another woman. She had always been secondary to her father's business, and having the same problem for the rest of her life seemed unbearable. That part usually lost her internal battles.

What Benny didn't understand, she knew, was that her feelings for him were still, to some extent, bound up in her feelings for her father. Her feelings as she sat alone at the dining table with a meal that served two were eerily similar to those she had experienced waiting outside school until dusk for Mr. Grey to pick her up, because both he and Alison's mother had been caught up with unexpected appointments and forgotten her. For Benny to bring loneliness into their relationship, which was good and healthy and beautiful, was to drive Alison away. And the one thing Alison had always longed to be was wanted.

She tried to search Benny's face for some clue that she was wrong, that her suspicion was totally unfounded, but all she ever saw was affection. And that only made her guilt at suspecting him worse. If Alison believed something of Benny that wasn't true, just who was betraying who?