I’m in love with another man. Let me call him Daniel. We met last summer in the South of France, in Provence to be precise, exactitude being something he approves of. I would like to say we bonded in an outdoor cafe over buttery croissant and café crème, or at a chic bistro seated in bentwood chairs with steaming mussels and chilled rosé before us. No, Daniel and I met through my husband Ron. He introduced us at Marseille airport and then offered him a ride to the village where we were
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