It was 11:41pm and I already knew exactly what this was. I’d sent the email an hour earlier. Short, polite, the kind of message you write four times before you let yourself hit send. That person would read it in the morning. There was nothing left to do. I’d said the thing. It was out of my hands now, in the truest sense a sentence can be true. And still — my heart was going like I’d just sprinted somewhere. Still my jaw was tight enough that I could feel my own pulse in my teeth. Still my hands, resting flat on the duvet, wouldn’t stop their small private tremor,…