Between the Dream I Don’t Need to Continue or the Old Friend I Never Expected

The day my husband was caught having an affair with his personal nurse in the parking lot by the New York media, everyone was speculating how much I would pay to suppress the news this time.

Over the years, cleaning up after Oliver Cerano had become routine for me. He believed it too, so when paparazzi swarmed him, he could still call out to me from afar.

His tone, casual yet confident, said, “She looks just like you when you were young. This time, I’m truly smitten.”

“Give me a bit more money, consider it a pre-purchase of several years’ worth of passionate photos.”