Peter sat across from me, calm as ever.
“You have your children.”
“That’s exactly what he’s trying to take.”
He was quiet for a moment.
Then he said something I never expected.
“If you want to protect them… marry me.”
I stared at him. “That’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“It does legally,” he said. “I can adopt them. I can give you protection he can’t touch.”
I shook my head. “You’re 67.”
“And you’re their mother,” he replied. “That’s what matters.”
The divorce went through quickly.
Too quickly.
I didn’t have the money to fight. Everything was already in Sean’s favor. When it was done, I had almost nothing left.
Except my kids… for now.
So I said yes.
Not because I wanted to.
Because I was afraid of what would happen if I didn’t.
Sean lost his mind when he found out.
He showed up at Peter’s house, furious.
“You think this is going to work?” he snapped at me.
“I’m not doing this with you,” I said.
“You already did,” he shot back. “Marrying my father? You’ve lost it.”
I didn’t respond.
“This isn’t over,” he said before walking away.
And somehow… I believed him.
The wedding was small. Quiet. Almost clinical.
I didn’t feel like a bride.
I felt like someone signing a contract she didn’t fully understand.
Jonathan held my hand the whole time. Lila kept asking when we were going home.
That was the only part that mattered.
When we got back to the house, the kids ran ahead.
Peter closed the door behind us and turned to me.
“Now that it’s done,” he said, “I can tell you the real reason I asked you to marry me.”
I felt something tighten in my chest.
“You asked me for something once,” he continued. “Years ago.”
I frowned.
Then I remembered.
Sean had disappeared for two days.
No calls. No explanation.
The kids were small. I was terrified.
So I called Peter.
