"I'm just sayin' it would've been easier," Mike chuckled.

"It's a little too late," Rosemary giggled. "And anyway, it's not like it didn't work, right?"

"Alright, alright," Mike snorted. "Whatever floats your boat."

It was rather dreary weather that day. The white clouds had transformed into different shades of grey, blocking out most of the sky as well as sunlight. The wind was cool and gentle, washing out Rosemary's senses and allowing her to at least enjoy what was left of the light.

"So, Michael," Rosemary said.

"Mike," Mike smiled.

"Ok, Mike," Rosemary corrected herself. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Whoa there," Mike teased. "I know I'm good lookin', but let's just take one step at a time."

"Oh, stop it," Rosemary laughed. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know," Mike said cheekily. "And yeah, I do. A wife, actually."

"Really?" Rosemary said gleefully. "That's fantastic!"

"It is," Mike said proudly. "Phyllis is great. You'd like her. I'll introduce you sometime. How 'bout that?"

"That'd be wonderful," Rosemary agreed brightly. "Oh, she sounds lovely!"

"She really is," Mike grinned. "And your guy seems great too."

"Oh, Russell?" Rosemary's spirited nature drifted away as fast as melting butter. She had never talked about Russell with the boys. "Yeah. I mean, I guess."

Mike cocked an eyebrow. "You guess?" he repeated. "That's all you have to say about him?"

Rosemary shrugged. "What else is there to say?"

"I don't know," Mike stuck out his lower lip. "It's just that you looked so happy with him when we first met you, that's all. I'd have thought you'd have more to say about him."

"Well, what do you want to know about him?" Rosemary peered up at him.

"Alright, what's wrong?" he questioned.

"Nothing," Rosemary said a little too quickly.

"I'm ready to bet on Peter's life that something's wrong," Mike stated.

"We've just been arguing a bit for the past few days, that's all," Rosemary said quietly. "It's nothing serious. Nothing that can't be fixed."

"You sure?" Mike asked, unconvinced.

Rosemary nodded. "Positive," she murmured.

"You know, that's what Davy said when he started thinking about you a couple weeks ago," Mike pointed out.

Rosemary's eyebrows shot up and her steady heartbeat quickened in surprise at the mention of Davy. "Davy?" she gasped. "He was... thinking about me?"

"Well, yeah," Mike shrugged. "And he feels really bad about what happened."

"Does he now?" Rosemary crossed her arms so tightly over her chest, she feared they would permanently remain that way.

"He does," Mike glanced at her. "I know what he did was wrong, but you know he didn't mean to hurt you."

"Really?" Rosemary huffed, glaring at the ground. "Kissing a girl behind my back hurts a lot more than you think."

"You know, when people feel anxious about something, they don't exactly think about what they're doing," Mike said quietly. "And Davy was nervous about lying to his old man."

Rosemary sighed heavily. She didn't know how to respond to that. Possibly because Mike was right. She remembered moments like those herself. Moments with anxiety building up inside her until she couldn't breathe, leading up to her mind blanking out. But when she thought about Davy, with his precious lips pressed against that girl's, she only felt anger towards him all over again.

"It's getting late," she said an hour later. "I should get home before Russell freaks out."

"Ah, yeah," Mike hummed. "I still need to get something for Micky, so I should be going too."

Rosemary smiled. She leaned forward and kissed Mike's cheek. "Night, Mike," she said.

"See you," Mike tipped his wool hat, reaching it toward his eyes so they were covered.

Rosemary chuckled warmly at the adorable gesture. She turned and started down the road, and once at the end of the road, little droplets of rain started to spit down at her face. She craned her neck to look back at Mike and waved. Once she caught sight of him waving back, she crossed the road and went down the sidewalk towards her and Russell's home.

Her and Russell's home.

That just didn't sound as appealing as it used to. At first, it sounded exciting. It seemed like such a high, knowing that she was finally living with her love. Now, there wasn't anything exciting about it. It just didn't sound right anymore.

Rosemary shrugged it off. It must have been their arguments. Yeah, that's it. It was merely their fights that made her think this way. She was sure once she and Russell resolved their problems, everything would be ok again.

Once at the front door, she pulled out her keys and plugged them inside the keyhole. She spun it to the left, and once she heard it click, she pushed the door open. She stepped inside and flicked the lights on, brightening up the once pitch dark room. She kicked her shoes off and slipped her coat off her shoulders. After hanging her coat in the closet, she bent down to place her shoes beside Russell's boots.

And right there beside those boots were a pair of black, expensive-looking heels.

Her eyebrows pushing together, Rosemary searched the house for Russell.

"Russell?" she called softly. "Are you here, love?"

She hadn't called him that since their first argument about Davy. It felt weird. She didn't know if she liked it or not.

After searching the kitchen, the living room, the garage, and the bathroom, she headed for the bedroom. The door to the bedroom was cracked open only slightly. The light was on. Russell was home.

Rosemary pushed the door open and poked her head inside to greet him. Only once she peeked inside, she seemed to have lost her voice.

Russell and the gorgeous blonde lady parted away from each other's lips. Russell's shirt was off, leaving him topless and naked from his shoulders down to his waist.

"Russell!" Rosemary choked out.

"Honey, you're home," Russell clicked his tongue. Rosemary stared at him in disbelief. He didn't look even slightly nervous. He was calm.

"What are you doing?" Rosemary gasped.

"Well, I was kind of in the middle of something here," Russell yawned, clearly annoyed that he had been interrupted. The girl snickered beside him.

"You... y-you..." Rosemary sputtered. She was hyperventilating. How could this happen? Not again.

"Aww, don't fret, darling," Russell cooed. "At least we're even now."

"Even?" Rosemary repeated in horror. "Even?"

"Yes," Russell said calmly. "You didn't tell me about Davy, so I didn't tell you about Kelly."

Kelly coldly smirked at Rosemary.

"I forgot about Davy!" Rosemary cried. "I told you that! I forgot about him because I was with you! You helped me forget!"

"Oh hush, baby, and let me and Kelly have our moment," Russell seductively gazed at Kelly's beautiful features.

"You son of a... you... Go to hell!" Rosemary shouted, tears involuntarily sliding down her cheeks.

"What?" Russell's cinnamon-brown eyes darkened dangerously. "What'd you say to me?"

He pecked Kelly's lips and stormed towards Rosemary's trembling form. He towered over her, his nostrils flaring up. His eyes were flashing horrifically and gravely. So unlike his usual kind and sweet nature.

"I don't even know who you are anymore," Rosemary sobbed.

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you thought, sweetheart," Russell sneered.

"Shut up!" Rosemary shrieked. "Just stop it! How could I have ever loved you?"

SMACK!

It was all so sudden. Russell's hand had curled up into a fist and drove it right into Rosemary's pale, tear-streaked face. The impact of it made her dizzy and stumble back. She felt her legs weaken, give out and drop to the floor. The pain in her head pulsed violently, like it was cocooned in a ball of fire and electricity. She was sure she saw stars spinning for a split second.

Slowly, she forced her throbbing head to lift up to look at Russell, who stood over her, anger dangerously flashing in his eyes. She whimpered and shook like a single stray leaf floating about in the wind.

"Out," Russell breathed heavily. "Out! Get out!"

By now, he was screaming. Terrified, Rosemary scrambled to her feet and quickly fled from the bedroom. She snatched some shirts, pants, skirts, underwear, and socks and threw them in a bag that lay carelessly on the floor. She pulled on her worn-out boots and whipped the front door open.

And she ran.