Claiming My Husband's Best Man
UpdatingEnglishUpdated
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Summary
My husband was in love again. With some girl, this time.
I’ve learned my lesson. No tears, no screaming matches. I even give him a gentle nudge out the door for his dates.
He’s pleased. “See?” he boasts to his friends, a proud arm slung around my shoulders at whatever cocktail party we’re at. “This is why you marry the good ones. The ones who get it.”
But his friends—his brothers-in-arms—they just shift their weight and look at their drinks.
Because they know. I’ve had my moments of not being so “good” with every single one of them.
Especially the one in the corner, the ice king himself.
