At my father’s retirement dinner, my parents seated my husband

too, and he stood in front of us in his good suit with his retirement watch catching the light, and for a second he didn’t seem to know what his own face was supposed to do.

“Diana,” he said.

I waited.

“I didn’t know,” he said. “About any of this.”

“I know you didn’t,” I said. “You never asked.”

He flinched at that. Small. But I saw it.

“Forty years,” he continue reading …