He approached slowly, the apology heavy in his chest. “Claire,” he said, voice cracking. She didn’t turn, just kept scrubbing. “I was wrong. I let fear destroy me. I doubted you, I doubted them. I doubted everything that mattered. Please… forgive me.” His throat tightened, words barely holding together.
She stopped, water running over her still hands. When she turned, her eyes were swollen from tears. “Do you have any idea what that did to me?” she whispered. “To think my husband could look at our boys and wonder if they were his?” Her voice broke.