Once or twice, after a rousing bit of sex, she’d ask me, “What’s gotten into you?” I never had a good answer for that, but she didn’t seem t... mind. Then one night, a Thursday, the day before my weekly visit to Tom’s, I came home to find her alone, red-eyed and staring out the window. She was smoking, a habit she had given up almost totally when we got married and reverted to only when she was greatly upset. Before I could ask what was wrong or where the kids were, she spoke. “Whatever it. “Now, don’t be nervous. You’re not in any trouble,” he said as he fixed his tie. He exited the car and opened my door. “We just want to talk to you,” he added. He took my arm as I got out of the car. We walked around the corner, this time he held my arm tighter as we walked up the stairs to the Southern City Police Station. “Steven, what are we doing here? Please answer me!” I pleaded- my voice a bit louder than I would have liked it to be. “Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble or anything like. More

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