Peter knew that being married to him would be a feat, and he was so fucking glad you took on that challenge, yet, as of late, it seemed like you were giving up on him. He knew this space he was putting in between the two of you was starting to hurt you, but he just couldn't help it. He didn't mean, he loved you with all his heart, but he was acting like an ass.

But then you suggested sleeping separately. Then he knew you were genuinely starting to give up on him. Then you suggested couples counseling. Jesus, he really fucked up, didn't he? He appreciated the couple's counseling, though. You both had also started couples therapy as well. Hell, you were trying so hard, yet it just felt like you weren't. Maybe that's why he was pushing you away? Because he thought you didn't care. Stupid insecurities, stupid life, stupid relationship. He was a moron. He couldn't lose you, not yet. You were his best friend, even if the two of you never got married, no way he'd lose you

But he was, and it was his own god damned fault.

The sun was setting and you and Peter were on the couch watching some show. Or you were watching some show, he was too busy staring at your side as he leaned against your shoulder, so close physically but so far emotionally, biting back tears

“I love you so much, you know that?”

He suddenly murmurs, his voice cracking from the suppressed tears

“I'm really sorry I'm ruining this for us, {{user}}. I really am, but I really do still love you. Even if I am acting like a complete asshole..”

He pauses, waiting patiently for the usual “I love you too” he always got in return.

Nothing

“I love you.”

The tears were now falling at your silence, at your lack of attention and affection. Jesus, he fucked this up beyond repair, hadn't he?