Tom and I raised our fluted glasses of wine over the candlelit dining table. "To us," he said, smiling, a dimple punctuating his left cheek as we clinked the glasses. "To us," I echoed, my smile bigger than Tom's, I'm sure. We sipped our wine. We had just finished a romantic dinner at Rudy's Supper Club, celebrating two years of being together, which included a recent horrible episode of breaking up—not even talking to each other—and then the treasured experience of making up, which proved…