Caleb can’t be gay. I love him—loved him. Whatever. I pictured our wedding, our honeymoon in Paris, our babies: one violet-eyed boy and a green-eyed girl. I pictured him making love to me countless times. Even though our first time was a fucking disaster, I knew we’d improve with age, like wine or…or some kind of alcohol I can’t think of right now. How can he be gay?
