I sat down in the living room, turned on the TV and felt quite proud with myself. Zoe had a need and I felt like I had fulfilled that need as diplomatically as possible.

And that feeling lasted all of 15 minutes.

"God Dammit!" I heard Zoe scream from the bedroom, and it didn't sound like an orgasmic scream.

I bolted from my chair and ran into her room.

"Go away!" she sobbed into her hand.

"What's wrong?" I asked, rushing to her side, but she wasn't saying anything else, just quietly crying.

"Zoe, baby, you can tell me anything, you know that. What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?!" she asked rhetorically....