I lay in the driveway of my new one-bedroom apartment near the beach, watching my boyfriend of three months and my dad carry furniture up the stairs into the sundrenched space with an ocean breeze. My back spasmed. My boyfriend’s face was sheet-white, and we were both exhausted from the 4:00 a.m. wake-up call when he broke out in hives. At the hospital, a nurse called me his “wife.” I basked…
