Whenever I was too busy, I'd ask Warren to drop Yvonne off at campus. He used to complain that she was cutting into our time together, and I always laughed and told him he was being ridiculous, getting jealous over nothing.
But gradually, the complaints stopped. He even started reminding me on his own that he hadn't seen Yvonne in a while, asking whether school was keeping her too busy, suggesting we send her some supplies.
A colleague once warned me to be careful about letting my husband spend too much time alone with Yvonne. A lot of college girls, she said, went crazy for men like Warren: mature, established, successful.
I always told them they were overthinking it. But they weren't the ones overthinking it. Everyone had seen it. The dynamic between Warren and Yvonne had shifted long ago. The whole world knew. I was the only one who didn't.
When I got home, Warren was already sitting on the couch, waiting.