”“Which is why I don’t think all those other women will react the same way you do,” he said. “If it was up to me, I’d wear that shirt.”�...�No,” she said. “You had those scars before you met me, at least most of them, and when you got them, it was on behalf of all of us. I want them to see how much you’ve suffered for their sake.”“Okay,” he said. “But I don’t think they’ll look at it that way. What about your scars?” he asked.“Mine?”“You can see them too,” he said.He walked up and traced a finger. At that moment Chanticleer held up her fork, waved it in my face, and with an evil smile reached under the table. In a raised voice she said, with some sarcasm, "Oops, I dropped my fork, would you please pick it up for me, darling?"I quickly glanced around and nobody seemed to be paying the slightest attention, so I slid to my knees and ducked under the table. The restaurant was dimly lit anyway, and under the table, it was just plain dark. Luckily, Chanticleer's white dress showed up pretty. More

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