Three years ago. We're at the Flore, sitting outside, Rue Saint-Benoît. It's summer. I'm dipping my black pepper potato chips in some ketchup. I've ordered a club sandwich, he's having a croque monsieur. He's my ex. The first man I was with, and until further notice, the last. We're actually still married because we never got a divorce. We lasted twenty years, he and I. It's been three years since I left him. His name is Laurent. With our eight-year-old son, with Paul, we do alternate weeks, all civil, we've never had any problems. A few months ago I switched to girls. That's what I want to tell him. That's the point of this dinner. I picked the Flore out of habit. We met here when we were twenty, it became one of our haunts. I still live in the 6th, I grew up here, I've never really lived anywhere else. But I don't go to the Flore anymore. I quit my job as a lawyer, I'm writing a book, I've got the tax people on my back and no cash to my name. It's a pain, obviously, but it's not important. So I spit it out, I say, I've started seeing girls. Just in case there was any doubt in his mind, with the new short hair, the new tattoos, the look in general. It's basically the same as before, obviously just a bit more distinct. It's not as if he never had his doubts. We had a little chat about it, a good ten years ago. I said, Nope, no idea what you're talking about. I mean I'm dating girls, I say to him now. Fucking girls would be more accurate. He says, All I want is for you to be happy. This sounds like a lie but it suits me fine, I don't reply. He's barely touched his croque monsieur, he lights a cigarette, calls the waiter over, orders more champagne. That's what he's drinking these days, he says it agrees with him, that it makes him feel less shitty in the morning. The check comes, he pays, we leave. Instead of going his own way on Boulevard Saint-Germain, he walks me towards the Seine. When we get to my door, he goes to follow me upstairs, as if we hadn't been separated for three years, as if I hadn't just told him what I just told him. I say no, he says, Have it your way.