Talk about getting hit with a bombshell. I feel my hand in his, and the last thing I want to do is remove it. If it were to remain glued to his hand forever, that would be fine by me. But what am I supposed to do? Just melt back into him like twenty some odd years haven’t gone by? My eyes fill up. Damn, if I’m not already embarrassed, now I’m really feeling mortified. Making matters worse, the hand he’s holding is shaking. Now’s the time to take the hand back, which I do.
“Sorry, Tanya,” he says. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Wiping both eyes with the back of my hand.
“I really wanted to make it look like I no longer cared, Tony,” I say, after a beat. “Like twenty years has enabled me to build a solid concrete wall between us. But for some reason, I think all twenty-plus years has manag
