You come home early and catch me trying on outfits for dinner with my ex, each one skimpier than the last. I blush, tease, and insist it’s nothing, but you don’t believe me. The night unfolds, my boundaries pushed while my clothes stay on. When I return, you confront me, and after relentless questioning, you finally get most of the truth—but not before I leave you wondering what else I’m hiding.