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“You’ve been served, ma’am.” As if being called “ma’am” isn’t bad enough. Turns out, my cheating ex is suing me for custody of our daughter.
This means war.
I may have stayed mostly rational while the jerk dipped his wick all over the county, but now I’m going full mama bear on his hide. Don’t mistake the filtered mom-of-a-toddler speak for meekness because son of a biscuit, I’m aiming to straight-up knee the man in his twig and berries.
Fancy lawyer, private detective, you name it, I’m doing it.
But then my other ex, Nash, my first crush (first everything, really) who I have a decade-long love-hate relationship with, gives me the idea for the craziest solution of all . . .
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