“What!”
“It's true.”
“You mean to tell me that my Will has a wife who is not me!?”
“That's what I heard girl, and it's been going on for weeks.” Mandy, Sandra's best friend, said, sipping her white champagne.
“Who the f**k is she, who does she think she is!?”
“I have her picture,” Mandy said, dropping the glass of white champagne on the glass table, dipping her hand into her expensive Dior purse, and bringing out her phone. She unlocked it and swiped through it before stopping and showing the picture to Sandra but not giving her the phone because she knew her bestie could smash the phone on the wall or floor out of anger because it was new and really expensive. She withdrew her hand after a while.
Sandra looked seriously pissed like she was ready to beat someone up.
“So what are we
