Roger dutifully wrapped his arm around Mandy's waist as they headed into the Gala, trying to ignore the photographers and reporters and, most of all, that guilty feeling that clawed at his stomach, a gnawing, nagging feeling that was pretty much constant at this point. He'd sent off Fleur's present this morning, a present which he should have never bought, words he never should have written, and the whole thing something he should have left well enough alone. But he was stupid and impulsive.
Mandy was putting on a very lovely smile, despite that things were definitely not so sunny at home. And since it was impossible to hide the twins at this point, her dress was tight enough to show them off, and now that she was finally allowed to, she kept doing that pregnant woman thing with the belly-holding. And she was glowing and really beautiful. Gorgeous, honestly. But every time he looked at her it just felt wrong. Like they were trying too hard to hold the seams together. She knew something was up and even if he never cheated again- which of course, he didn't plan on- he didn't know if he had the tenacity to keep lying.
Roger pressed a kiss to her cheek and waved Will over to stay with her for a while. "I'm going to get a drink." He headed over to the bar and sucked down two shots of bourbon, then to shake things up, ordered a bourbon on the rocks. God, he was fucked. His kids were going to be fucked. Everything was fucked.