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“He is,” Blaine sighed, messing with the cuff of his shirt. “We just have quite a bit of history.”
“How much?” she inquired, taking a seat in the uncomfortable metal chair in front of Blaine’s desk.
“His son was my first love.” My only love, he thought.
“Oh, honey.” Judy sometimes acted more as a mother to Blaine than his own, so he wasn’t surprised when she reached over and clasped his right hand between both of hers. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“How much time do you have?” he grinned before starting in on the story of a spy, a bird, and two boys learning about life.
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