Then she said it: Are you queer? I must have been plain as a sheet of glass. How long had she been thinking of asking this? I thought I’d hidden myself so well. I fumbled. I talked obliquely about a recent crush on a woman, said my husband and I had opened our marriage, were trying it out. Words came from my mouth like they were someone else’s. I’ve dated people in open relationships, she said. A thought: If this were fiction, a good editor would scratch this scene out.
