The name Daniel Hughes had long since faded from my memory.
I downed a glass of whiskey in one gulp.
My throat burned, my head began to swim.
“I thought you were allergic to alcohol. You never drank,” Linda asked curiously.
I shook my head. “It’s fine. I got over it.”
After the divorce, I had drowned myself in alcohol.
One time, an allergic reaction nearly killed me in the ER.
It was my current husband who dragged me back from death’s door.
Since then, the allergy somehow vanished.
Linda suddenly raised her glass with a smile and drained it.
“Blame me. I only posted the reunion notice in our Facebook Alumni Group. I should’ve messaged you directly too.”
She shook her empty glass.
“This one’s my apology. Everyone, drink up.”
She led the toast, and the atmosphere quickly grew warm and lively again.
Still, after some hesitation, she couldn’t hold back her curiosity.
“Daniel Hughes is such an outstanding man. After the divorce… you’ve never regretted it?”
“From the way he looks at you, if you just said the word, he’d take you back in a heartbeat.”
Before I could answer, a video call came through from the nanny at home.