“I saw you on TV tonight.” My brows knit together. “For what?” “At a rodeo. Giving thumbs up to some bull rider.” Ah. There it is. Anytime he sees me potentially moving on, he swoops in. I used to think it meant I had a chance to get him back. Now, I’m old enough to know it’s his power play, it’s how he keeps me in line. Under his thumb.
