Twenty-****ing-seven. Of course. The first one would have to be ten
years my junior, now wouldn't she. He told me over tea and cheese
toast and I'm man enough to admit I've felt a little nauseous ever
since. Not much has happened between them, and maybe nothing will.
She might not be into older men. I can't honestly say that's what I
hope for though. He's a good man and I'd like for him to have
someone. Even if it is some child that makes me feel the ache in my
bones and the lines around my eyes. It would be nice to be exempt
from the kneejerk reaction, but really now. Four months after you
split up with your husband of nearly fourteen years he tells you he's
dating a teenager, surely a little nausea is warranted.
What I can't muster is any kind of anger about it. We've an equal
score on this, as on so many other fronts. Tit for tat. Even
steven. Somehow that's precious little comfort.
M
