Oh my God, is Sam blowing me off? He’s never blown me off! Not in all our years of dating and marriage has he ever refused a request for sex. Never. It’s made me feel guilty in the past because there have been times he’s wanted it and I turned him down because of (ironically) an early meeting. But Sam always says yes. Even when he had an early lecture, he was always willing to trade sleep for sex. Always.

Why isn’t he interested anymore? Does it have anything to do with the text messages he’s still getting regularly on his phone?

“Okay, fine,” I say as I roll off him. “Whatever.”

“I’m sorry, Abby.”

Now he’s apologizing to me for blowing me off. If anything could make me feel worse, it’s that.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say.

“Tomorrow night,” he promises.

“Yep.”

He looks at me for a moment, then shakes his head and shuts off the light. He rolls over, trying to get back to sleep, and after a few minutes, the sound of his soft snoring fills the room.

Sam’s phone is plugged in and resting on the windowsill. I know his password by heart. It would be very easy to go over there and check his text messages. See what he and Monica have been discussing so enthusiastically these last several weeks. But that would be a major betrayal of his trust.

I couldn’t do that.

Or could I?

Sam isn’t interested in sex with his wife. Isn’t that a sign of another woman in his life? I’ve certainly got probable cause here.

But I can’t do that to Sam. I trust him. He wouldn’t cheat on me. He wouldn’t.

I’m still staring at his cell phone when I eventually drift off to sleep.

Chapter 20

Monica’s got an OB/GYN appointment today and I’m going to this one. Somehow she’s managed to schedule every single appointment at times I couldn’t manage. But this one is first thing in the morning, and Sam and I are driving there together, just to make sure I don’t mysteriously have the time wrong.

“I’m glad you could make it today,” Sam comments as he drives uptown to Dr. Wong’s office. “It sucks the last two appointments didn’t work with your schedule.”

“Yeah,” I mutter. “Too bad Monica doesn’t have access to my calendar. Oh, wait.”

He gives me a sideways glance. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m saying it’s a bit of a coincidence, that’s all.”

He comes to a stop at a red light. “Are you saying you think Monica is purposely scheduling her appointments at times you can’t make?”

“No.” But I’m heavily implying it. “It’s great that you could make all the appointments though.”