Four years after...where is he?

It has been four years and I don't know where he is.

I know he works at the same place.

I assume that he is living with her.

I believe that he is playing happy families - again. Having shed his role of dad for his own son, to playing daddy for her younger (not yet psychotic)  kids. This is his tried and tested method for being a better person, better than the man he has replaced.

And who has he replaced?

Her husband and himself - by stepping into a different family - again.

I have fantasies of following his car to find out. Perhaps I'm so wrong. Perhaps he is heartbroken and living alone, swigging whiskey and still reading Jack Reacher books. Or perhaps he has become someone I could respect?

I have three friends who would love to help me to do this! 

I'd wear a headscarf, and different glasses and sit in the passenger seat.

Would he notice?

As an unfamiliar car shadows his Golf?

Does he still have the Golf?

A blue Golf.

He bought it just before leaving. 

God damn! 

Why didn't I write the registration down! 

Except - I can't do it.

It feels underhand, it feels wrong to go sleuthing about. 

A part of me asks, is that true?

Is it really underhand?

Or is it that I'm too scared to dare to know.

To see him, even at a distance, would open the gates of Hell again.

This is serious.

When I went to the solicitors to change my will they told me that he would be able to contest it. Papers to 'sever' the ownership of the house have to be delivered to him. 

And it matters for my sons, because he has already privileged her children over his own. 

I have zero trust in him.

The solicitor offered to employ a private eye. But underneath everything I feel as if I'm standing on thin ice, and in my belly there is a knot of absolute terror. And I know that knowledge is power and I know that I'm not stepping up.

He has power - not simply psychologically - I dare not upset him.

He knows this.

This is why everything is stable and peaceful, and I'm trapped in a house I can't sell.

He knows that he's won the game he was always going to play.

And it is so important that he keeps believing this...because it keeps us - my son and I - safe.

Nevertheless I enjoy the fantasy of daring to find out where he lives. And how will I know which car is his unless I hide in the bushes where he works and watch through binoculars to see which car he gets into? Or do I and my son just take to standing outside his place of work looking like Victorian waifs and strays, or perhaps in finest cyberpunk outfits, I mean I can't possibly be there as me! Try to win the sympathy of other members of staff! 

Or, do I know anyone with a drone?

Or do I buy a drone...

OK, I'm down but I'm not out.