I found myself at my office a few hours later. That is to say, I was back at home, already missing Ray. Call me a hopeless romantic, but that’s what I am. It was the same thing with Jeff. We met. I fell hard. The flame burned bright. Then it was an inferno. Then I was left with a shitload of sooty ashes.
Anyway, back at work meant back on my case. And so, I called Arthur.
“I still don’t think he’s cheating on you,” I said.
“How can you tell?” he asked, snidely. “Seems you’ve been busy doing other things.”
“All in the line of duty.”
“Uh huh.”
“Well, I’m there to spy on your husband, to potentially catch him doing something he shouldn’t be doing. I’m asking around. I keep getting the same reply: he’s happily married; he loves his husband. He even has a photo of the two of you up on his
