Nobody decides to lie to their wife for four years.

They decide not to say it this afternoon, and then the afternoon becomes the reason, and it compounds daily at a rate nobody in it can see.

He is a good father to our living son.

He has never once told me I was overreacting.

He will say the thing out loud to a sixteen-year-old in 2037 because he agreed to it in writing and because he is not a coward about paper.

And I will never be in a room with him again that I do not have to be in, for as long as I live.