So I agreed to it.

And I want to be honest about what that is actually like, four years in, rather than resolved about it.

Every other Sunday evening I hand my son to the man who did this, and he says something pleasant about the week, and I say something pleasant back, and I get in a car.

Some weeks it is completely fine.

Genuinely — most weeks now, it is a logistics transaction between two adults and I feel nothing in particular.