My ex-husband’s nightmare
I ended the call, pulled the car door open and slammed it behind me.
My phone beeped a second later. They were pictures of a man kissing a woman in his car. The second was the same people on the beach, sunbathing. They looked like the perfect couple; the smile on the woman's lips, the look of love and desire on the man's eyes, was captured perfectly.
They would easily win the award for the most affectionate couple, except they weren't a couple.
I smirked. Three pictures were enough. Perfect. Finding Mr Grey's number, I sent him the pictures, then called him. The call connected on the second ring. “Did you send me those pictures?" The words sounded forced and almost like a whisper.
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