Thirty-NineI returned to the parlour and sat quietly listening to the grandfather clock as it finished its last chime, thus signalling eleven o'clock. Peter silently joined me, his eyes red and watering. I handed him the box of tissue still on the coffee table. He plunked down beside me and rested his head on the back of the couch.
“I'm so sorry,” I said. “Can I get you anything?”
Peter sat up and looked at me, his eyes full of confusion. “I have no right to ask you this, but what's going on?” His tone was even, but I detected accusation in his question.
“I'm not sure I know what you mean.”
“I suppose I have to draw it out for you. What's going on between you and Aaron?”
I looked at him in amazement. Is he jealous? How does he know something is going on between Aaron and me? Are we th
