My husband’s so-called “female bro” lost the game and was told to pick a man in the room, sit face-to-face, and shake for ten seconds.
Without hesitation, she chose my husband.
“This position—he and I know it best, don’t we?”
I froze, thinking she was joking.
Before I could speak, Chloe Carter lifted her skirt and sat right on my husband’s lap.
Seeing my face darken, she swayed her body and explained:
“Oh, the night before you two got married, he was drunk and restless. I helped him out.”
“Relax, it was just fooling around, nothing actually happened. Otherwise, do you think you would’ve gotten to marry him the next day?”
I let out a cold laugh. “Of course.”
Then I raised my hand and slapped her across the face.
“You should have told me sooner. I wouldn’t have wanted a filthy cucumber someone else already touched!”
…
The private room instantly fell silent.
Ethan Miller, who had been resting his hand on her waist, abruptly pulled back.
He shielded her in his arms and glared at me furiously:
“Sophia Harris, are you insane?!”
“Chloe already explained—she only helped because it was an emergency! What are you jealous about now?”
“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?”
He frowned, his eyes full of suppressed disgust as he looked at me.
But clearly he was the one at fault—yet now I was the unreasonable one.
I gave a bitter smile, locking eyes with him.
“So you do know Chloe is a woman. For a moment I thought you didn’t.”
Ethan froze, blurting out:
“Of course I know—”
He cut himself off halfway.
“Enough! Don’t try to change the subject. You need to apologize to Chloe right now!”
I stared at him in disbelief, the bitterness in my chest nearly suffocating me.
Suddenly, it all felt pointless. I grabbed my purse and walked toward the door—only to be yanked back violently.
“Sophia Harris, I said apologize!”
My stomach slammed into the corner of the table, pain shooting through me until I broke into a cold sweat.
But I still clenched my teeth, lifted my head, and forced out each word:
