"Hence...why I needed a reason not to just end it all," he said, his free hand spread wide. "There was no freedom. I couldn't breathe in that house. When he died I wasn't sad. I remember feeling relieved."
That, at least, Thomas had already known. Peter had talked at length about how guilty he felt for not mourning his father. Thomas had never blamed him though, and certainly with more context he wasn't about to start. "I would have been too. It was the first time you could be yourself."
"But I didn't know who the hell that was! I can't even pinpoint when I really figured it out." Peter sighed and reached for Deirdre's hand instead. "Look about the other stuff I said- I was ten and eleven. My father made me serve as altar boy because he said and I quote 'at least you'll be useful for something'. But we weren't allowed to speak at the dinner table, how could I tell him what was happening?" Not that he had explained what had been happening.