I returned to the foyer. “Cole—” “You’re not leaving. Stop seeing every move you make as an admission of guilt and tell him what any normal, loving husband would. Tell him it’s late, and you’re already half asleep on my couch. Tell him you’ll see him tomorrow.” “Cole—” I tried again. “Did it ever occur to you why he’d want to drive four hours in the middle of the night to get to you?” he asked, getting increasingly worked up. “How long did you think this ‘no sex’ thing would last? It’s a phase. They say all married couples go through it. He was overwhelmed with work, focused on making a good
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