The heat spread to my cheeks. I felt them burn and immediately despised myself for the unwanted response, an instinctive animalistic response I couldn't control. And maintaining control was the one thing I needed, the one thing that had kept me going these past few months. I needed it back.

So I fixed an icy gaze on him, manifesting my best death stare. I knew the effect my death stare had on people. The factory girls would stop their gossip and get back to work, Sarah knew not to argue when she saw that look on my face. Even Peter. Peter. I shook my head as if the action would remove Peter from my mind, my heart, like he had been removed from my life. I focused my gaze again on him. I had to let him know that he had crossed the line.

But even my most devastating glare had no effect on him. Not the effect I wanted at any rate. His eyes merely twinkled with amusement, even delight. As for me, I felt the heat rise again on my face and inwardly despaired at the flush I couldn't hide from him. I knew I had lost control. He was in control. And I hated it.

Finally I found my voice.

"How dare you!"

"What?" Adam grinned at me, innocently shrugging his shoulders.

"What? What!?"

I stared into his eyes, exasperated, frustrated at his attitude, at the casual way in which he had so easily betrayed his own uncle. His uncle, his mother's twin brother. I searched his eyes, hunting for a sign, any sign that he had inherited something of his uncle. That I could, by looking deep into the nephew's eyes, see the uncle, feel close to the uncle again.

"Listen, Carla."

The softening of his voice and the gentle touch of his hand on my arm brought me back to reality. It wasn't Peter, I reminded myself. It was Adam that I was looking at, not Peter. It was Adam who had just kissed me, not Peter. I shrugged off his touch and hardened my eyes.

"How could you do this to Peter?"

"Peter's gone, Carla. He has been for months."

"I know that!" I shouted the words at him. Of course I knew that Peter was gone, I didn't need reminding. Not from anyone, and certainly not from Adam. "I know that," I repeated softly, my gaze dropping to the floor as the reality sunk in that yes, Peter was gone. Like every other time this reality hit me – and it did hit me, daily, as if I could ever forget – I felt the pain tug at my chest, like someone had poked their finger into my heart and prodded, over and over, not stopping, never stopping, until I thought I would scream. I looked up at him again, recrimination in my eyes, on my tongue. "That doesn't explain why you thought it would be okay to kiss me."

"I dunno." Again, infuriatingly, he shrugged. "You looked sad."

"So you thought you'd cheer me up with a kiss?"

"Cheers me up every time."

"That's not the point."

"Tell me, then, what is the point?"

I shook my head at his obstinance, at his insistence that I spell it out for him how inappropriate he was being.

"Technically, I'm still married to your uncle."

Technically. I sighed at the thought. What was a technicality when all practicality proved that I was a single woman? I lived as a single woman. My husband was gone. Every morning when I woke up, every night when I went to bed, I was a single woman. It was more than those practical things though, and I knew it. I knew that it was a single woman who had let Adam get close enough to me to kiss me. Physically close. Emotionally close. And, despite how much I wanted to throttle him in this moment, I couldn't deny that Adam had been an emotional support to me these past few months. Maybe it was because of the blood connection, maybe it was because I could see something of his uncle in his eyes, maybe being close to Adam helped me feel close to Peter. Was that so wrong?

I looked into his eyes again and wondered. Was it my imagination? Was that Peter I could see looking back at me? Maybe it didn't matter, not right now. Maybe I could just pretend.