Could it be she was being fooled by her own mind? Projecting her own securities onto the situation? A suspicion in and of itself leaves very little to grasp onto — especially when senses are involved: we know these can lie.
But how to turn her mind off those compelling thoughts? How to tame it to not go those places, those pockets of raw pain? Where every nook seems to invite more of the same.
And finally to be left in her own private hell. One of entirely her own making.
Anyway, great enjoyable fiction. Thanks for writing.
Btw, I had a ex lover once who after I came back from music rehearsal, accused me of smelling like cum. Led to an enormous argument. After breaking up and a period of introspection, I came to the realisation that perhaps the outlet of playing music provided me near-orgasmic pleasure that indeed led to a cum-like smell. Who knew? Who knows? Sometimes, we think too much. And take ourselves too seriously.