
I gave up spicy food for three years because my heart-surgeon husband said the smell gave him migraines. Then I found him peeling garlic for a food-truck girl, cooking her extra-hot beef bowls while freezing the joint account that paid my mother's hospital bills. He introduced me as his "colleague." I signed the divorce and left for Houston. Now he begs to win me back. But when a man calls you plain water, how do you trust his tears?