Elliot was waiting when they returned to the Duff house with the children. Romana had remained in the car with her two, given there was no longer a housekeeper to keep an eye on them at home. Dawn and Daniel greeted their father with hugs and kisses. They had many a story to tell of their adventures to London and back. Romana and Jordie had agreed not to ask the children to keep secrets. This was a mess of the adults' making, no need to drag them any further in the middle of it.

"Where have you been?" Elliot narrowed his eyes at the state of her.

Jordie presented Elliot with his Christmas gift. "I got you this." It was neatly wrapped, courtesy of the sweet, overworked shop girls at Selfridges.

Elliot tucked the gift under his arm. "That doesn't answer my question."

Jordie stood her ground. She had come up with a white lie for this. She had told Mrs. Bosley she wouldn't be home, she hadn't said where she and the children would be staying the night.

"We stayed the night in London on account of the snow."

Elliot puffed his barrel chest. "Don't lie to me."

"Tell me what you want to hear, and I'll tell you that instead."

"I want the truth."

Jordie rolled her eyes. Forever with the theatrics, Elliot. He couldn't resist to make a scene. "I stayed with Romana. I told you we were going to London together."

"You did more than stay with her, didn't you?" He pointed at his neck and Jordie's hand flew to her throat. Elliot expression darkened. "There's nothing there, but you thought there might be. That's enough."

Jordie smiled, determined to keep her head up through this, determined not to frighten her children who were old enough to be cognizant of the confrontation occurring right in front of them.

"Things must change, Elliot. We've both known that. We've danced around it."

"I haven't danced. I've bled and I've kept my silence to keep this family together while you gallivanted around with your—what's the word for it? Lovers?" That wasn't the word he was thinking of. Jordie knew plenty of words he might have uttered in its place. She wouldn't say them, either.

"Mummy, what's a lover?"

"Someone a grown-up person loves in a special way, Dawnie. That's all it is." Jordie cut her eyes back to her soon-to-be ex-husband. "There's been no gallivanting. You've known as well as I that we aren't happy. We weren't happy before the War and we're no happier now. We've been lying to ourselves and that needs to stop. It isn't good for the children."

"Like you give a red damn about the children."

"They are all I give a damn about!"

"Don't swear! Mummy says never to swear," Daniel raised his uncharacteristically small voice. He grabbed his sister's hand when her bottom lip began to wobble.

"You're right, darling. We shouldn't swear. Sometimes when adults are angry, bad words come out because we don't know how to show our anger any other way. We won't use them in front of you anymore, I promise. Your father promises as well." Jordie didn't ask. Elliot didn't have the high ground on understanding their children's needs.

"If you think I'm going to let you railroad me into some whacked-out arrangement, you're more addled than the mixed-up squaddies coming back fighting shadows in the alleyways. This isn't War, Jordie. You aren't the captain anymore. Here, I win."

She hissed in offense. The gall of him!

"It isn't about winning, Elliot. It's about damage control." She indicated their children looking fretfully between their feuding parents.

"I'll ruin you. It won't be hard. You won't get another job, you won't touch another scalpel in this life."

Jordie stood to her full height. She'd been shrinking herself to suit his preferences for months on end and longer. No more.

"That's where you're wrong. You won't tell a soul. Your ego won't let you. Who'd hire a surgeon who couldn't keep his wife from straying with another woman. Shall I tell Mr. Forsythe the hospital CEO, or would you like to?" That had long been her card to play if she had the guts. She'd found them.

Elliot blanched, his nostrils flared. "You'll never advance. You'll never set foot in a theater worthy of the name."

"We both know who the better surgeon is, Elliot. Watch where you tread."

He prowled towards her. "No, you watch!"

Romana appeared at the door to the lounge. "Be very careful, Mr. Duff, where you point angry fingers."