It did not live with his child.

It lived, as it had always lived, with his mother, and every request he had ever made of me to keep the peace was, I understood now, a request to keep his mother comfortable, at whatever cost to me and, it turned out, to our daughter.

I did not argue with him.

There was nothing left to argue about, and nothing he could have said that would have reached me.

I got in the car and I drove into the rest of our lives.