It's like the conversation never happened. We were out this morning, walking the dog with our son, just talking about stuff. She'd come round, we walk, we talk, she heads off and I get on with the rest of my Sunday. We don't talk about her new former-ex, maybe-back-on-again idiot boyfriend. Mostly because our son is in earshot the whole way, partly because I can't be arsed.

She sent me a text on Friday. She's met him again, thinks she can keep it in perspective, maybe get him out of her system, promises again to keep him away from our son. I spend half an hour on the platform of Bristol Temple Meads, ignoring my colleagues, trying to write a reply that doesn't use words like "you", "selfish", "stupid" or "bitch". Give up and get a cup of tea. Finally write one asking her to listen to the advice of her friends, seeing as they were the ones who had to pick up the pieces last time.

So, it's a waiting game. I've asked people near her to keep an eye on her for me. Maybe she'll handle it, maybe she won't. I still feel angry, but there's a dull, resigned edge to it now. Bring it on, let's get it dealt with.