“Let’s get divorced.”
My husband frowned at my sudden announcement.
“Don’t say nonsense, Louiella. We’re no longer children.”
You’re asking for a divorce because you’re not a child.
We’ve never slept in eight years. So I came to a conclusion. My husband is either a d*ck or gay.
On the day I notified my divorce to my husband, I returned back to when I was an eight year old kid.
I decided to remain friends with my enemy-like ex-husband.
Somehow, I filled in the dissatisfaction caused by her ex-husband with another man.
So this time, I will pick the right man.
“Gerald. I’m going to date.”
“What?”
“I think Carlo of the Dvore family is good. He’s moderately handsome, moderately applied, and moderately nice.”
“You’re saying weird things.”
“What?”
“Louiela, if you’re trying to make me jealous, stop there.”
What on Earth are you talking about? I’m serious.
“If you say you are serious about it, then I’ll really get angry.”
The crazy man can read minds. What’s wrong with him?
