My Husband’s Regret, Not My Problem—Short Story
Her lips curl up in disgust, and she sizes me up as if coming to my matrimonial home on a Saturday evening to speak to my husband in an indecent red body con dress, isn’t disrespectful enough.
“Don’t be naive. I came here for Daniel and Daniel alone, and it’s for work. When will you get your head out of the gutter and realize that you are just a prop? A very hardworking prop?” Gwen asks, shifting her weight onto one of her stiletto heeled feet, and I bite down hard on my tongue. “Fair owner?” She scoffs. “You’re not Daniel’s partner, and you never have been,” she adds, and I shake my head once as the brakes in my head jam. “If anyone is going to soon become a shareholder in Daniel’s company,
Hot Chapters