The ExI tried to ignore the blood-red stain spreading inexorably across my white skirt. The maitre'd fussed about, offering me napkins and apologies by turns. With the company I was wont to keep, it occurred to me that I was a fool for not having bought shares in White King. It seemed an interminable age before the waiter finally left with a promise to bring another bottle. I asked if he could make it a dry white, this time.The Ex by crazylady
I turned my attentions back to the man sitting across the table from me, forcing myself to meet his eyes. Sharp green met nervous hazel. "Davidů" I kept my voice soft, but firm. I could see the tension taking hold of his shoulders, forcing his back straight. He had a white-knuckled grip on his knife and fork. I frowned. "Hey, relax. I'm not talking about the end of the world."