He said it the way you report a fact about the weather.
He had been thinking about it for about four months by then, which I know now from his own messages and did not know at the time.
Not long after that I found out about Noelle, who was his personal trainer and who he had been seeing since about the November.
I found out the ordinary way. A receipt. Four seconds of a screen.
When I put it to him — in that kitchen, on a Thursday, with four days of working myself up to it behind me — he did not apologise.
He shrugged. An actual shrug, with his hands open.
And he said:
"What did you expect? Men notice how women look. Noelle's perfect."
And then he looked me up and down. Properly. Slowly, for about four seconds, the way you look at a car.
I was thirty-six years old and standing in my own kitchen.
