Walking up the path to my ex-husband’s house, I get excited. Nick and I laugh about how many ex-wives could say that, but as I get closer, I see our two young sons waving and smiling at me from his lounge.
My heavy heart soars as I crouch down and gently put my hands on the window pane. ‘Morning, I love you,’ I say, as I see their small chubby hands match mine.
‘We love you, Mummy,’ squeals Casper, now five.
Olly, now seven, can be quieter. ‘I want a cuddle,’ he often says, and my heart breaks.
‘Go to Daddy and he’ll give you a giant hug from the both of us,’ I say, tearfully.
Once, he wouldn’t come to see me at the window at all because he…
