Wooing My Ex-Wife

Nico’s breathing grew heavy as a wave of panic washed over him. I’ve been a straight man for the past thirty years, and I’m about to become a cross-dresser! I’m going to lose my dignity and pride!

In an attempt to regain composure, he rolled down the window, allowing a gust of fresh air to fill the car.

Right then, Charles’ cold voice rang out. “What’s the matter with you? Worried about looking ugly and embarrassing as a cross-dresser? Are you considering jumping out of the window?”

Charles’ response caught Nico off guard, leaving him momentarily speechless.

Nevertheless, determined to express his concerns, Nico uttered, “It’s not about looking ugly. It’s about struggling to accept this situation. Must you gloat? After all, you’re facing the same predicament as me, aren’t you?”

Although Charles also felt ill at ease, he looked a lot calmer than Nico. “You’ve trained in the Federal Bureau of Investigation since you were little, right? Surely you’ve taken disguise classes before. Haven’t you dressed up as a woman during one of the exercises?”

Nico slumped in deep dejection and replied, “No! I’m a straight man, and dressing up as a woman is something I would never do! I’d rather give up on the activity and face the punishment of doing three hundred push-ups than compromise my identity in such a way.”

“Well, you’ll finally make an exception today. It’s a significant event in your life. You should remember it.”

Nico’s irritation grew as he noticed Charles’ apparent gloating. He’s going through the same thing as me! What is he acting all high and mighty for?

In a fit of anger and frustration, Nico’s words tumbled out. “Did you think everyone is as driven by competition as you? Only someone like you would go to such lengths, including cross-dressing, just to come out on top. D*mn it! I should have punched you harder earlier and made sure you stayed down!”

Charles’ smirk grew wider as he responded to Nico’s anger with a nonchalant tone. “You’re panicking, aren’t you?”

Nico was at a loss for words.

“Hey! Stop it, okay?” Zendaya, who sat in the middle, took on the role of a peacemaker. “We’ve arrived at the laboratory! Let’s go!”

Nico got out of the car reluctantly and walked uneasily behind everyone else. Needless to say, resistance was written all over his face.

Zendaya held Charles’ hand with one hand and Nico’s with the other as she skipped her way toward the laboratory and into Benedict’s ward.

At that moment, Benedict was on the bed with an IV drip attached to his hand. The foot of the bed was piled up with things.

Upon taking a closer look, they could see the items Zendaya had mentioned earlier—wigs, clothes, and heels.

you’re the winner, you get to choose first.” Benedict was as enthusiastic as a

to find the right words. Finally, he

a black pinafore. It’ll make you look so angelic. This combination suits your temperament!” Benedict declared

choice of colors held no

his fate and realizing it was futile to resist, he gathered the set of clothes

the

her phone camera to

change in the shared restroom in the laboratory? It would save time and effort to clean the bathroom

sounded somewhat deep. “It’s Uncle Nico’s first time dressing up as a female. You

Charles complied.

Benedict didn’t let him sit, so he stood at the foot of the bed with his back

Nico was still in

neck and yelled, “Uncle Nico? Are you all right in there? Did you faint when you saw

as those words fell, footsteps were heard

handle, took a few deep breaths to steel himself,

the door opened, Zendaya rushed

walking out uncomfortably. I’ve never felt more embarrassed in

Zendaya widened her eyes and sized Nico up as though she

dragged the awkward-looking Nico toward the bed and

the skirt was small, so it became a miniskirt once Nico wore it. With his long fringe, he

he looked sexy because the black stockings

arms, he actually looked good in women’s

that, his facial features were still as handsome as before. As he was blushing, he appeared weak

took

wait. You’re Aunt Nico

again, Nico

that moment, he was clenching his toes, feeling

at the foot of the bed, and

beat later, Charles praised, “Not bad! You look muscular, though. Also, you need makeup to conceal the masculinity of

nothing more than to dash toward Charles and

peak as he glared at Charles and shouted, “Zip it! I’ve done my best! Enough with your sarcastic remarks! Why haven’t you