I could sit an A level in the details of Katherine and Mark’s life together over the last decade. Every asset, every purchase, every detail of their wedding, every potential baby name. Tradition dictates that metamorphoses belong to the married—the rest of us exist in a static state. “It looks lovely,” I lied. “It’s got a great garden for the kids,” Katherine said. “So brilliant,” I said, already running out of adjectives.
