My Ex-Husband's Regret: The Surgeon's Return

ty Rom

reached the garage le

Garold: "I didn't even let her touch my arm just now.

g screen and let out a

elf for one second excused spending millions of doll

t, ignoring him completely, and drove str

ady standing beside a mannequin holding a midnight-blue velv

g room and zipped myself i

, letting out a low whistle. "God, Feli. That bone structu

ightly taken aback by the breathtaking

d, accommodating pastel suits just to cater to

to get a divorce, it was

pulled up to the grand stone s

g. I gathered my velvet train, walked through the bron

were playing tricks

baritone rumble

a Norton standing u

ing defensive enforcer in the NHL. His massive six-foot-four frame was wrapped in a bespoke cha

gerous tonigh

Ezra and I had grown up together, and he was the only p

genuine smile finally touching my lips. I looked him up and down. "Dressed to

suddenly turning incredibly deep, carryin

, his voice dropping a fraction. He stepped forward, bending his thick arm to of

ok of his arm, letting him esc

teps, the wh

champagne tower-the Bruins WAG circ

muttered behind her crystal flute. "Why is she o

ice. He shifted his massive shoulders,

sleep in this trash fire of a marriage,

my glass. "I'm awake now, Ezra.

spread across his scarred face. "Good. T

shes exploded near the arch

in a tailored black tuxedo, loo

his right arm wa

ner label, but on her petite frame, the fabric bunched at the wai

om once before locking onto my

m seemed to freeze solid as he marched across the

around my hand, shifting his weight forwar

dark eyes fixed on Ezra's knuckl

you should worry about the cheap knockoff on your ar

sides, his knuckles popping

s watering. "Dr. Roman, please don't be mad at Ga

p a fresh flute of champagne from a marble

y voice cutting through the

d rag, Ms. Nguyen-did you come to the m