“And besides, I asked her purely out of friendship. Better her than some random woman outside. You don’t appreciate me, and now you even dare to hit her!”
Then he gently caressed Chloe’s face, his eyes full of tenderness.
I stood there, my heart growing colder by the second.
Three years of marriage, and whenever Chloe came up, the word he used most was bro.
Sharing food? Bro.
Sharing a bed? Bro.
Even sleeping together? Just bro.
I raised my eyes and looked closely at Chloe—big wavy hair, bright red lips, ten-centimeter heels.
Not a trace of a tomboy.
Thinking about it, his “bro” excuse was just to fool me.
I gave a bitter smile and said expressionlessly:
“You call this helping out a bro?”
“Fine. Then show me—pick someone else right now and perform for me. See if they can ‘help you out’ the same way.”
Ethan’s face went pale. “What do you mean by that? You’re doubting us?!”
“Sophia, I’ve told you countless times—I grew up with Chloe. If there were anything between us, we would’ve been together long ago. You wouldn’t even exist in the picture!”
“Today we finally got our friends together to celebrate our anniversary, and you just had to throw a fit and embarrass everyone?”