“Thank you.” I tell him, laughing a little out of nervousness. He's so close, I can smell the alcohol on him, the fabric conditioner of his clothe... and the sweetness of his aftershave, but I don't feel intimidated or uncomfortable. He doesn't press himself against me, or grab me and force me into submission. Instead he stands there waiting, as though he just knows smugly that I want to kiss him. It happens slowly and silently, like this is the calm before the storm. I look him in the eye, and. The big H word again. A couple years ago, I told my parents I wasn’t happy in the marriage and was thinking about leaving. They said I was thinking selfishly, that I should be grateful that Sam provides a good life for little Rachel and me. Materially they were right, of course. My teaching salary and what child support Sam might pay would still compromise our lifestyle. Plus, Rachel’s only four. She wouldn’t understand. It would traumatize her. Sam’s a good dad. I’ll give him that, if nothing. More

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