I fucked up. Beyond anything I would have ever imagined, I fucked up. When you get married, you have all these fears and images in your head about how you might ruin it. And when you have kids, your mind fills up with angst, reminding you of all your flaws and imagining unique ways they could ruin your family. I had outdone even my irrational paranoia. I had broken my marriage vows by forcing myself on my own son.

I had convinced myself that I deserved what I took from Abram. In my tired, traumatized, desensitized state of mind, I truly felt justified in my infidelity. My incestuous infidelity! How...