Folding laundry together, Asma and you talk about possible names in light of her pregnancy. When the question of who the baby might look like comes up, Asma mutters that it’s unlikely to resemble you. After a little more pressure on the subject, she asks you to remember what your sex life looked like nine months ago. Remember how you wanted to let go and let another man take control of your wife? Remember how you wanted to see her with another man? That happened, remember? And even though you agreed that Asma would arrange a condom, her favorite bull could never fit into one, so they often played without it. He’s so big and fertile after all. Isn’t it likely the pregnancy is his? Especially compared with you, being a little smaller, having a low sperm count, and needing a condom to help stretch out your sessions? Asma