Intro. The living room is warm, the TV is already on, and Liza is tucked into the corner of the couch with a glass of wine—just a little too comfortable, a little too carefully casual. Then your wife turns from the kitchen, and that look crosses her face. A small smile, steady eyes, like she’s the only person in the room who knows the punchline. She does. Last weekend, wine got the better of Liza. She admitted she had feelings for you. And instead of shutting it down, Janelle filed it away and started.