Back when he was servicing male clients at a certain specialized establishment overseas.
An occupational injury landed him in the hospital. I was the one who stitched him up.
I wondered if he'd been taking the HIV medication I prescribed.
...
Dora and I were the center of attention tonight.
Every eye in the room was fixed on us.
The moment Guy Mason finished speaking, the entire banquet hall fell silent.
Guests exchanged glances, smirking, words hovering unspoken on their lips.
A mutual friend of ours hurried over to smooth things over.
"Don't be ridiculous. David Gilbert studied medicine in Berlin—do you have any idea how demanding that program is? He wouldn't have time for that kind of nonsense."
Guy snorted and curled his lip.
"Please. Everyone knows stressed-out intellectuals love hooking up to blow off steam."
"Besides, Ms. Fox is doing so well for herself now, and brother-in-law's family doesn't exactly have money. Can you blame him for finding a way to earn some bridal gifts lying down?"
I slammed my champagne glass onto the table. The sharp crack silenced the whispers. I stepped toward him, my face hard as stone.
"You'd better have evidence for what you're saying. Otherwise, I'll sue."