But I’ve been lost too. My world’s a mess, it always has been. My memories of him, as well as the ones I’ve made with my daughters, are the only things that have gotten me through the past seventeen years. I forced myself to grow up without him, become a woman, no longer the little girl he once knew.

As far as aging goes, I look much older than him now at almost 40. But in years, Peter was always much older than I was, I think, even if he’s spent his whole life trying to deny it.

His eyes begin to cloud. A black, hollow gaze stares back at me and I know I’ve said something wrong.

“You always had a choice, Darling,” his voice rasps. “This time, let’s hope you make the right one.”

He backs away so quickly I fall to my knees at his feet. He laughs, and I curse under my breath, embarrassed and hurt because the Peter I knew would never have hurt me. Never would have let me fall. He wouldn’t have watched as I lay broken, a shell of what I once was at anyone’s feet, especially his.

When I don’t rise right away, he takes a fist full of my hair and slowly pulls me to my feet.

“I… I don’t know what you’re looking for,” I stammer as I find my footing and square my shoulders, attempting to seem stronger than I feel before I dare look him in the eye.

“Yes, you do,” he taunts, taking a step closer. He releases my hair and grabs my chin harshly in his palm. “It started with you, and it will end with you. One way or another. Fight it, and it will only make it harder for both of us.”

He grabs my arm and pulls me harshly to the window. There is no time to think. No time to decide. Before I can catch my breath, he’s stepping up onto the bench seat and I watch wide eyed as he kicks at the glass. It instantly shatters into a million pieces around our feet.

“Second star to the right, remember?” He gestures out into the night, dropping my hand and staring into the eye of the storm.

The thunder crashes as rain blows through the shattered glass. I’m drenched instantly. Crossing my arms over my chest, I attempt modesty as my baby blue nightgown clings like a second skin; the fabric leaving nothing unseen.

“Say ‘goodbye’ to what you made of your life here while you pushed what we had away. It’ll all be a dream come morning.”