For a man who had never trusted anyone, until so very recently, it was still so utterly tempting to trust now. To tell all, every detail from his mother to what had happened.
He knew that was not what Pansy asked for however, just as he knew it was nothing he could tell. Especially not now.
'I would never hurt Polly, Pans, you know that,' he said softly, returning the squeeze of his hand. 'But there isn't much to tell. He was working late, I was-' he nearly said not sober, but she knew him well enough to know he would not allow himself to get drunk in public. 'I met someone, who is not important, but I-' staged me cheating so Percy would leave 'fell for temptation, I guess, only Percy caught us and threw me out.'
He ran his hand through his hair, trying to keep it together. Every word stabbed as the lie it both was and wasn't. Yet that didn't matter. For all intents and purpose it was true, and he needed to learn to believe it himself. To live with it. No one could know the truth. Perhaps when his mother was safe, but not until then.