My best friend is marrying my husband novel Chapter 44

While Vivian was hooked up to IV fluids, Charles even carried her to the bathroom.

When she couldn’t sleep, he told her stories.

When she threw up without warning, he caught it with his bare hands.

Every nurse in the hospital whispered the same thing–Charles was hopelessly in love with her.

But only Vivian knew–Charles was either protecting Diana, or just trying to quiet the weight of his own guilt.

One thing was certain–it was never about her.

Five days later, Vivian was discharged and returned home.

The moment she stepped inside, she saw Diana and her son, Evan Foster, lounging on the couch, watching

TV as if they owned the place.

Diana’s high heels had stained the brand–new cashmere rug Vivian just bought. The clay figurine Charles had

once made for her now served as a spittoon, stuffed with Diana’s sunflower seed shells. And Evan was using

their wedding photo as a drawing board–he’d scrawled three huge words across her smiling face: Worthless

Woman.

Vivian’s heart clenched. “Why are you here?”

Diana curled her crimson lips into a smirk. “Your mother died in that dreary old penthouse–bad luck sticks.

The new villa Charles bought me is being cleaned, so I’m staying here for a few days. After all, this is the

home of my son’s father. I have every right to be here.”

Her eyes glittered with blatant provocation. “Unless, of course, little Vivian objects. In that case, I’ll just go

find my ex–husband–he’s been begging me to get back together ever since I divorced him overseas.”

Vivian felt Charles’s grip tighten sharply around her wrist.

She looked up.

His jaw was set, eyes iced over. “She agrees. You and Evan can stay as long as you want.”

He was jealous.

Seeing Vivian remain silent, Charles turned to her. “Vivian, you’ve always been great at taking care of people.

While Diana and Evan are here, I’ll be counting on you. Diana’s picky, and Evan can be a handful- be patient with them. I’ll make it up to you. Okay?”

Vivian thought of that night–on their wedding night–when Charles had kissed each of her fingers and sworn

she would never have to touch housework again.

But now, he was asking her to personally serve the woman who killed her parents.

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It was like grinding her dignity into dust beneath his heel.

She closed her eyes. “Alright.”

Because she knew–this wasn’t the right time to fight back.

There was something important she still had to do in this house.

It didn’t take long for Vivian to realize just how impossible Diana and her son could be.

One single shrimp vein left uncleaned in an whole dish, and Diana dumped the plate–sauce and all–onto the

floor. “Filthy thing. Start over..”

One degree off from the ideal temperature, and Diana splashed the warm milk straight onto her face.

“Useless trash. You had so much energy in bed–why can’t you manage a glass of milk?”

Her son, Evan, was just as cruel.

Because Vivian hadn’t started his cartoons before he went to the bathroom, he smashed a mirror and made

her pick up the shards–piece by piece.

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