When I was in college, I met a young man who, five years later, would become my husband. (Four years and no kids later, he became my ex-husband.) When we were dating — this was all the way back in the 1980s, when people still dated — I would needle him about his sexual past after we kept running into women from his high school days. The way they’d say hello to each other made me think they’d been more than friends.

After each encounter, I would say, “Wait, did you sleep with her, too?”