The Surrogate for My Don
Crystal Kwooing my ex wife again novel anastasia and julianmy husband's mistress invited me to coffee after getting pregnantmy wife feminized memy husband chose his first love over me
I was painting a field of lavender, the purple flowers swaying in the breeze.
"News from Chicago," Alex said, his voice neutral, walking up behind me with a tablet.
"What news?" I didn't look up, just kept mixing my paints.
"Victor Moretti is dead."
My hand didn't even flinch. I dipped my brush into a pool of lavender paint.
"Oh," I said.
Just that. One syllable. An ending.
"You don't want to know how?" Alex asked.
I finally looked up at him, a small, real smile on my lips. "He's not my problem anymore, Alex," I said, my brush never faltering. "He's just a name from another lifetime."
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