Allergic to You
Language: en
The divorce from my ex-husband six years ago was the single most humiliating chapter of my life. He’d lost his mind back then, spewing the vilest curses, swearing I’d never find happiness. I was shaking with rage. That same day, I bought a one-way ticket and fled the country. It wasn't until a high school reunion last week that I set foot in this city again. During dinner, someone enthusiastically tried to pour me a glass of wine. But Daniel, my ex, who was sitting right next to me, shot his hand out to block the bottle. “Don’t,” he said, his voice low but shockingly firm. “She’s allergic…