He shrugs. ‘I just think that it went on for so long, it became normal. I knew that it wasn’t right and that other people’s relationships weren’t like the one she and I had, but I think my coping mechanism was to normalize it. Or even tell myself that it was nothing less than I deserved.’

‘There’s nothing you could have done that warranted her treatment of you,’ I say.

‘I’m beginning to see that now,’ he says, his jaw tensing. ‘But it’s going to take me a while to get used to the fact that not everything I do will result in my getting berated, or ridiculed, or worse.’

‘Are you already learning to enjoy the simple pleasures in life?’ I ask. ‘The ones that before would have seen you get punished?’

His expression softens and his face breaks out into a grin he couldn’t stop if he tried. ‘I can’t tell you what a joy it is to walk down the street, without having to worry about what time it is.’

I let him continue.

‘Time was my greatest enemy. She used it as a weapon against me. She’d send me to the shops to buy something, and I’d be standing on the high street, looking at my watch, wondering if I could get away with popping into the butcher’s to get some of the sausages the children liked. Would it take too long? Would she accuse me of loving them more than her?

‘I wanted to visit my mum’s grave. I wanted to browse the library. I wanted to stop and talk to the person whose dog was being over-friendly. But I didn’t have time for any of that – not if it was, quite literally, on her watch.’

His pained expression is back as the memory takes hold. ‘Do you have any idea how mentally draining it is to have to second-guess everything you do? To question whether it’s going to cause a problem if you go the long way home because it’s a nice day. It’s utterly exhausting.’

I nod, as if I understand. ‘Aside from needing to learn that you’re not to blame for everything, what else did she take away from you that you’d like to get back?’