“It was earlier in our relationship. We’d only been together about three months. I ended it for a little bit and he begged, groveled, he sent flowers, cards and gifts.” I wave a hand toward him as if to say et cetera. “You get it, I took him back on a trial run.” I chuckle. “He became this perfect guy. It truly was just a stupid drunken mistake. He was in Vegas. Bachelor party. You know how it is.” “Can’t say that I do. I went to three bachelor parties while we were together and I distinctly remember demanding nudes from you every four hours. So don’t hand me that drunk mistake bullshit
