by Matt Muilenburg Ahmad Budhi I game-planned in the midst of ecstasy, laying my work shirt over the dresser so I wouldn’t have to iron out creases before returning to the back half of my nine-to-five. I kicked off my cheap loafers and peeled down my dress socks, leaving them at the foot of the bed for quick retrieval. Laurie, then my fiancé, had already laid her workplace casual over the closet door and awaited me beneath the comforter, the taste of the leftovers we’d hurrie