Peter's feet remained planted.
"Peter?"
"I have to go alone," he said, leaving no room for disagreement.
Grace discreetly nudged her husband.
"Okay," Byron said, settling his hands on both Kate's and Peter's shoulders. "Put your coat on. I'll take you to the airport." He gave Kate a reassuring look and a wink.
"Don't you want to pack some things?" Kate said.
"There isn't time," Peter said. "I'll call," he said, unable to look her in the eye again, then turned and left the room.
"Be back in a bit," Byron said, kissing his wife on the cheek. "Keep those fries in the oven please, dearest." He turned to Kate and gently squeezed her arm. "It's going to be okay." Then he turned and went after Peter.
Hearing Byron's words of reassurance as he waited outside the workroom, Peter felt the thing in his heart come fully awake. It had been hibernating all through the winter and he had forgotten about it. But now it was time to for it to reemerge.
A knot of contradiction swelled in his throat when he remembered back to the premonition he'd had on that fateful night, more than half a year ago, that he was going to lose everything close to his heart, everything that ever mattered. It was starting, he reasoned, and by the looks of it, Kate would be the first piece to fall away.