The judge granted me primary physical custody, set Grant on an alternating-weekend schedule, and ordered eight months of back support.

Grant followed me out onto the courthouse steps into a cold Wisconsin rain.

“You made me look irresponsible,” he said, “in front of every single person whose opinion matters.”

I held the court papers against my chest, out of the rain.

“I didn’t make you look like anything,” I said. “I just stopped hiding the records that proved what you already were.”

For once, he didn’t have an answer ready.