I put my hands on my hips.
“The fact that I rejected you on our intimacy day says it all.”
“You clearly enjoyed yourself before,” Noah sneered.
I flipped my hair, as though to show Noah that his words did not even phase me.
“Seventy percent of all women fake their orgasms,” I countered with a dismissive wave of my hand. “I just happen to be one of them.”
I smirked at the incredulous expression that crossed Noah’s face. It was his own fault for continuing this conversation. If he only agreed to my divorce application, then this cringeworthy conversation would be over.
Noah opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He raised his finger, as though to reprimand me for my language, only to lower it once more. The flustered look on his face provided me with a degree of amusement, if
