What can I do to get her to fess up to him?”

It sounds like your feelings are wicked intense for this woman, and I can’t imagine how hard it is not being able to talk to anyone about it. I commend you on not forcing her hand and telling the husband yourself, and respecting her time frame as you both deal with this extremely difficult situation.

I understand you love her, and try not to hate me here, but have you looked at this from another angle? Is she open with you about her reasoning for not telling him? Or does she put it off and change the subject whenever you bring it up?

These are tough questions, but they need to be answered in order for you to know what to do next. If she ignores the questions and denies you the details, and constantly makes you feel bad for asking, then you need to search deep within your heart and ask yourself why you’re staying with someone who is willing to cheat on their partner. I know every situation is different, and no one can know unless they’re in the relationship, but I don’t want you to be taken advantage of.

If she is open with you about the details, and this is real…then I feel you owe it to yourself to put things on hold until she has managed to tell her partner and file for a divorce. It’s not fair to you to be the person in hiding.

I hope everyone in this triangle finds closure and happiness.

Keep me posted.

In the meantime,

Stay Sexy. Stay Healthy.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

Amber

“I’m almost starting to worry about you two,” Mr. Griffin said, suddenly appearing in front of the table in the back of the room Dean and I had claimed on the first day of Code Club.

When did he move from his desk?

I’d been totally engrossed—not at all seeing the code on my screen, but mentally sketching my next blog post. Dean sat next to me, close enough to touch, not that I would with Mr. Griffin present.

It had been two months since the concert, since Dean and I had officially become more to each other, and I still wasn’t used to the glow he caused to shine through me.

“You’re saying you don’t code the minute you’re home?” I asked, smiling as I stretched my arms over my head. I’d accidentally let myself slip to the common-laptop-hunched position who knew how many hours ago.

Mr. Griffin pursed his lips in the universal touché face.

“Regardless,” he said, tucking his hands in his pockets. “There are fun things to do outside this classroom.”

I feigned a gasp. “There are?”

Dean chuckled. “What are these fun things you speak of?” he asked, diving right in with me.