He Committed Me to an Asylum, Now He’s Begging for Mercy
Language: en
Five years after our divorce, I ran into my ex-husband at a 24-hour convenience store at three in the morning. He was there to buy sanitary pads and painkillers for his wife. I was restocking the shelves. He was in such a rush that he told me he didn't even need a black bag to cover them. But when our eyes met, he froze. "Chloe? How... how have you been?" I instinctively pulled my sleeve down to hide the scars on my wrist. Without a word, I scanned the items and bagged them. He didn’t leave. His voice was hoarse as he asked, "Are you... do you still hate me?" I shook my…