"Might not, but might still." Tracey thought about the implications and what this all meant now they were in this neat and tidy triangle. "I don't want there to be issues between us. You and I. I've always admired you and it would be a shame if that changed just because one of us regretted what was happening." She was conversing with her husband's lover. Was it easier that it was someone she knew? Someone she actually liked? And thankfully, she didn't care deeply about Isaac enough yet to let that matter.
"I don't hate him and I don't resent him and I don't want to get to that point. I want to have happy children even if my marriage isn't something typical." Which would be unlike her own childhood. It was every parent's dream to give their child better than what they had, right? For a moment she considered Marcus and Isolde and how they shared a life, even if only aspects of it, while they each lived their own. Could she do the same? Would she want that with Isaac?
"Even if I'm pregnant already, we still will have nine months of getting used to each other. I'm committed to trying." Tracey laughed softly. "True, we have Quidditch." Rolling her shoulders, she pushed forward and turned her broom around to face him. "Be honest with me, Flint. You're alright with this? With me? With..." She knew there could be nothing between Isaac and Marcus. Not more than something hidden and secret. Why was she caring if everyone was happy but herself? Was she asking for his blessing?