Five years after the divorce, my ex-husband chose the seat next to mine in first class — there were four empty ones

And I stood at the other end of my own hall and had absolutely nothing to say to him about that, because I spent five years not writing one letter.

We are the same. That is the finding. He would not open a drawer and I would not lick a stamp, and between the two of us three boys got to five.

Nobody in this story is the clever one.