I head back to my room about an hour later, where Peter is just waking up. He pulls me down into bed with him. “I’m so happy to be going home,â€? he says sleepily. “So am I,â€? I respond. “Are you sure you aren’t angry at me for not going with you?â€? he asks. “No baby, I’m fine. I’m okay with Ollie going with me. You just catch up on your rest back in London.â€? He grins and kisses me. “Yes, and you get some rest too, because after a week of being away from you, you’ll need the energy.â€?

I laugh, but I feel a bit sad. Peter, for all of his narcissism, doesn’t deserve this. I feel like clearing the air. I don’t want to sneak around behind his back anymore. I want to tell him that Oliver and I are in love, and that we’re planning to be together.

I swallow hard. I should wait until I’ve talked this over with Oliver. We should be telling him together, but I need to do this while I’ve mustered up the courage to do so. He’ll be angry, but the pretense will be gone.

“Peter darling, I have something to tell you.”