"I don't want to be there at the party!" she told her husband stubbornly who was now getting tired of her mood swings, "None of my friends will be there," she complained to him with a pout but today he was in no mood to kiss away that plump pout.
"Maybe because none of your friends is as rich as me," he said without a care in the world, but it made her go still.
He was right.
None of them was as rich as her husband. For a moment, she felt a sense of superiority running in her veins.
Was that the reason her friends always took her advice? Was that why they tried to follow her every style?
Since childhood, she had achieved what she always wished for. Be it status, wealth, or any other worldly wish. Except one.
A handsome husband.
She gave a secret look to her husband and complained to God silently.
What if you have made him gorgeous? You should have given him lesser wealth and should have blessed him with better looks.
