Broken Love: His Final Goodbye
I snapped back and turned to leave, but Michael called after me.
Laughing loudly, he pointed at the bright red bowl of steamed fish in some spicy sauce.
“Eat this, and we’ll let it go.”
I was allergic to chili peppers, and they had deliberately ordered the extra spicy version.
I wanted to refuse, but Florence grabbed my wrist.
She knew perfectly well that I couldn’t eat spicy food, yet she allowed Michael to push a small bowl piled high with the sauce toward my mouth.
I jerked sideways, and the dish spilled all over Michael’s expensive shirt.
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