“What do you want me to do, Claire?” he finally asked, his voice hollow, broken and completely beaten.

“First, you’re going to look at me and admit, with no excuses, that you lied to me, you lied to your aunt and you broke your son’s heart to protect your own comfort,” I demanded.

Peter turned around slowly, his face streaked with tears and his eyes puffy with remorse.

“I did every one of those things, Claire, and I’m sicker with myself than you could ever imagine,” he admitted, his voice shaking with real self-loathing.

“Why did you let it get this far, Peter?” I asked, needing to understand how the man I loved could be so cruel.