I poured my life, my health, into Vicky Sterling's startup.
Now she's a celebrated CEO, and I’m just a recovering patient, battling Crohn’s.
Her "conceptual artist" lover, Julian, fills our home with his presence.
One evening, Julian, knowing my strict diet, offered me a rich, forbidden pasta.
Under his watchful smirk, I took a bite.
Within the hour, internal fire consumed me.
I crawled to Vicky, begging for the hospital, but she dismissed my agony.