Although it was nearly 15 years ago, I’ll never forget how utterly mortified I felt.
There was an awkward silence, then my new boyfriend answered. ‘Yes, a table for two,’ he said.
It was 2002 and the first time I’d been forced to acknowledge how our age gap might appear to others. At 24, I was in a new relationship with Ray, who, at 52, was more than double my age.
As he was 28 years older than me, I’d tried to prepare myself for this type of confusion, but at the time I couldn’t stop a red flush lighting up my face.
Now, however, 14 years later and with 12 years of marriage under our belt, we’ve learned to laugh when people make assumptions – after all, Ray is…
