“Show him,” I say as my friend asks my wife Victoria what I got her for her birthday.
“Him?” I say as my wife, Rebecca, follows the line of my finger towards a scruffy-looking waiter.
“We need to nip next door,” my husband, Gene, says as he hands me a pineapple.
I hear water as I come home in the middle of the afternoon. All because she texted me. Alexis. The woman I…