Raking a hand through his dark hair, he moves to the pool and slips in gingerly, in deference to his erection, and begins swimming laps. On my way to watch him from the comfort of a padded deck chair, I pick up my robe and fish the small bottle of lubricant from the pocket, setting it down beside me on the side table. And I wait.

I wait for him while thinking about everything that has happened in the last three years. I've become a wife. I've made partner at my event planning company, which is ...