Soon, Peter—he asked me to call him that—became the center of my days. We cooked together, laughed, shared books and songs, and I stopped worrying about Kate’s sharp remarks. My world softened, warmed by companionship I hadn’t known I needed.
Peter followed, confessing everything. He admitted he’d agreed at first—but fell in love for real. His honesty broke through my anger. I forgave him, kept the record player, and chose love over pride. From that Thanksgiving on, we were inseparable—our home filled with music, laughter, and a second chance neither of us expected.