30pm, I couldn't get onto the driveway as there were already several cars parked there, which I recognized as belonging to some of my son's friends. The party was only supposed to be for one night, as far as I knew, and I also presumed that Sarah was back, so the presence of the cars confused me. It was possible she had gone to her mom's or a friend's house and Brent and his friends had decided to stretch out the party, though he had to know we were due back about now.I was going to walk right in through the door, but something told me that I should get the lay of the land first, partly to find out whether my wife was actually home, and also to find out exactly what sort of teenage post-party hell I was walking into. I felt a tad guilty, peeping through the windows of my own house to spy on my wife and our son, but I rationalised it as just a quick check to see what I was in for.I walked as quietly as I could up to the lounge window and peeped through the window. The light were on and. “I’m so sorry!” I said brokenly. “I can’t remember! I try so hard to remember your voice, but it won’t come. It’s all so dim now! I don’t want to forget! Help me!”“Peter,” she whispered sympathetically and sat down with me on the floor. “You don’t have to remember,” she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She wrapped her arm around me and it felt so good that I sobbed with fresh grief. I wanted her to hold me all the time. “Peter, Peter, Peter,” she said slowly. “What am I gonna do with you? We can’t keep meeting like this. Here, dry your eyes.” she said and passed me a tissue.I didn’t want to, but I dried my eyes and slowly calmed my breathing. I took a few deep breaths and then looked at her again. “I’m sorry,” I told her again. “I know you told me to move on, but...”“You’re still holding back,” she said, finishing the thought for me. “I know. I hoped you’d find someone, but, Babe, you have to leave the house to meet people. They’re out there, you know. A whole.
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