At an auction I hosted, my wife won a limited-edition luxury car for fifty million dollars. She handed over the car keys to her male partner on the spot, drawing cheers from the crowd. Everyone exclaimed that love was blatant favoritism. Everyone’s attention was focused on the well-matched “couple”. No one noticed the real husband of the heroine gritting his teeth and swallowing all his emotions on the auction block. I thought this marriage had come to an end. The moment the hammer dropped, my wife, Rachel Johnson, walked up to me and took the keys, giving me a scornful look before turning toward Oliver Kensington. To the amazement of the crowd, she handed Oliver the keys to her fifty-million-dollar limousine. At that instant, cheers and applause resounded throughout the hall. The flash focused on the two while my stomach suddenly twisted, and I almost vomited blood. I clenched my teeth and tried desperately to swallow all my emotions. My coworker, who was beside me, was the first to notice and took me to the hospital. I had a stomach relapse because I was so emotional. But my wife, Rachel, never showed up. She was embracing Oliver for an interview with a reporter. That reporter asked, “Ms. Johnson, may I ask if this man is your husband?” The business world knew that Rachel had a husband she had been married to for five years but never showed and that she had a beloved childhood friend. So the reporter was eager to confirm the identity of the man next to Rachel. “He’s the love of my life,” smiled Rachel softly while Oliver, at her side, puffed out his chest. Her vague answer made the reporter keenly aware of something, so that reporter just nodded. I watched the video as I lay in the hospital bed, a sharp pain in my heart. I had been married to Rachel for five years, and our marriage was a casualty of two large business families. But I was in love with Rachel. However, Rachel had never acknowledged me in public. She said, “I don’t want to upset Oliver, and I hope you understand.” So, all this time, I had been performing the role of a reasonable husband, quietly doing the job I loved. The young nurse came in muttering, her tone disgruntled, “Where’s your wife? Why hasn’t she shown up by now? If she doesn’t show up later, this checklist…” “I’ll just sign it myself,” I interrupted the young nurse. She choked on her words and looked a little distressed for me. She wanted to say something else but eventually just sighed. I walked out of the hospital alone after signing and paying the bill. The blinding sunlight made me squint. In a blur, I saw Rachel. She was holding Oliver on her arm as she got into the limousine she had just won. Oliver’s car shone even brighter in the sunlight. Inside the large villa, I was the only one most of the time. But Rachel was surprisingly back today, carefully holding Oliver up. “Benjamin, sorry to bother you. I broke my foot. Rachel said she didn’t feel comfortable leaving me alone,” said Oliver, holding his ankle out. There was a faint redness on it that I couldn’t even tell if I didn’t look at it deliberately. “Okay.” I nodded and got up, ready to go upstairs, only to be stopped by Rachel. She said, “You’re sleeping in the guest bedroom today. Oliver has a broken foot, and the bed in the main bedroom is better for him.” I was stunned. The bed in the main bedroom had been given to me by my mother, Aurora Wellington. Back then, Rachel had offended the gangsters for Oliver. A car with no license plate sped toward her. I subconsciously rushed forward to push her out of the way. Pain spread throughout my body. But I saw her get up in a hurry and ask Oliver, who was standing by, if he was hurt, without noticing me, who had already been covered in bruises. When I woke up again, I learned that I had a shattered calf. After that, the only way I wouldn’t feel pain was to sleep in a customized bed. I said, “But I…” “Will you stop fighting with the patient?” Rachel interrupted me impatiently. She helped Oliver into the elevator, leaving me standing alone in the living room. I had no choice but to sleep in the guest bedroom. The bed in the guest bedroom was uncomfortable. The discomfort in my calf, combined with the fact that I’d only just had stomach surgery, kept me in tears all night. I thought it was time for me to give up on Rachel.
Early in the morning, I could hear cheerful laughter downstairs. Oliver was playing with Rachel with a cookie. He held the cookie close to Rachel’s mouth and took it away before Rachel could open her mouth. The two finally notice me behind them as they play and laugh. Rachel cleared her throat and said, “You’re awake. Let’s have breakfast.” I sat across from them in silence. Oliver pouted, seemingly annoyed that I had disturbed them. “Stop by from work tonight and bring Oliver back a cake,” said Rachel to me as if giving an order. My hand paused, and I said, “I’m not available.” The crisp sound of clinking cutlery echoed through the dining room. I didn’t look at Rachel’s face as I hurriedly finished my glass of milk and carried my bag out the door. There were a lot of collections up for auction today. I was sitting backstage, memorizing, when I heard a commotion outside. A man said, “Ms. Johnson really loves her childhood friend.” Another man said, “Isn’t she married? She’s cheating like that, isn’t she?” A woman said, “She and her husband are in a business union, not in a relationship. She’s in true love with her childhood friend. If it wasn’t for the fact that her childhood friend is not as well off as that man…” The other woman said, “Yes. That man broke them up, so he must be afraid to come out and say anything.” Listening to the discussion outside, I lowered my head. I was the man who broke up Rachel and Oliver’s love. I couldn’t help but laugh to myself at the thought before dialing my home number. “Dad, Mom…” For some reason, my voice choked the moment I opened my mouth. There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment. “Come back.” “Okay.” Hanging up the phone, I gathered myself together and stepped up to the auction block, seeing Rachel sitting in the audience. She was sitting with Oliver. Oliver had his arm around her, and the two looked very affectionate. People at Rachel’s level basically consigned auctions by phone. Just because Oliver liked to make a splash, she accompanied him in and out of the major auction venues to buy things for him. “It’s ready to go,” my coworker whispered to remind me. I took a deep breath, put on a professional smile, and began to introduce the first collection of the day. It was an exquisite handmade mechanical wristwatch with a starting bid of one and a half million dollars. I faintly heard Oliver’s voice. “Rachel, I like it.” The next second, Rachel raised her hand. “Five million dollars.” The audience erupted in shock. I was stunned and then started counting down. There were no more bids, so the watch was auctioned off to Rachel. She wore the watch on Oliver’s hand as she had done the last time and held his hand up high like a general who had won a battle. Watching this scene, I was calm. Rachel should be receiving the divorce agreement soon. She slowly lowered Oliver’s hand in front of the crowd. Once seated, she took out her cell phone, her smile slowly fading. I professionally began to introduce the next collection when I was suddenly interrupted by Rachel, “Benjamin, do you really want a divorce?” The audience was instantly silent. Gradually, they began to whisper while the smile on Oliver’s face disappeared. After all, it was the first time Rachel had recognized me in public. I smiled and said gently, “Ms. Johnson, please don’t interrupt my work.” After that, I continued to introduce the collection. The crowd in the venue no longer wanted to listen to my introduction and looked at Rachel and me. As I introduced one item, Rachel would auction off one at five times the price. The audience let out a gasp of surprise. But Oliver’s expression was terrible. The last collection item was a pure gold brooch, with a starting bid of one million dollars. Rachel bid ten million dollars and won. She slowly walked up and picked up the brooch, pinning it to my collar. Rachel said, “Benjamin, stop pretending. Didn’t you just want me to publicize you? Now, you’ve succeeded.” With that, she patted me on the shoulder before turning to leave. Oliver gave me a grim look, then left after Rachel.
Reporters in the audience rushed forward, their microphones almost in my mouth. A female reporter asked, “Mr. Wellington, are you Ms. Johnson’s husband?” A male reporter asked, “Mr. Wellington, may I ask if you intentionally staged today’s scene?” Another female reporter asked, “Did you purposely break up Mr. Kensington and Ms. Johnson?” Question after question swamped me. Finally, with the help of my colleague, I returned backstage. Looking at the brooch on my collar, I felt an inexplicable surge of pain in my heart. Rachel still didn’t understand me after all these years. By the time I got home, it was already ten in the evening. Rachel was sitting on the couch with a cold face while Oliver was smoking a cigarette. Seeing me, Oliver said, his voice extremely hoarse, “Benjamin, you didn’t have to embarrass me in front of so many people.” Oliver sounded aggrieved, but I burst out laughing. Who was embarrassing who? Ignoring him, I headed straight upstairs to pack my suitcase. But Rachel’s voice sounded behind me. “Benjamin, our marriage is not child’s play. I hope you think it over.” Her voice was cold. I sped up my packing. Until I closed the suitcase, I turned to look into Rachel’s eyes and said, “Rachel, I’ve thought this through. Please sign the divorce agreement as soon as possible.” With that, I lifted my suitcase, passing Rachel to go downstairs. In a rare move, she chased after me. But she said, “Benjamin, Oliver is not easy on his own. What’s wrong with me giving him more? You’ve got everything. Do you have to take it from him? Benjamin, are you that petty?” All the way to the living room, I stopped. Oliver was still sitting on the couch, smoking one cigarette after another. He said, “Rachel, I’d better leave. Don’t argue with Benjamin.” With that, he got up and limped toward the front door. Rachel rushed to help him, and the two began to pull at each other. I just felt upset. It wasn’t the first time this kind of drama had played out in front of me. Once upon a time, I would have gone crazy asking Oliver to leave, accusing him of everything in front of Rachel. But at the moment, I just wanted to leave. I coldly put my suitcase in the trunk and quickly got in the car. Then, I started the car and drove away. I saw Rachel’s surprised look in the rearview mirror. Until she became a distant black dot, I let out a long breath as if I had let go of a heavy burden. When I got home, Aurora and my father, Kenneth Wellington, were standing in the doorway. Kenneth patted me lovingly on the shoulder. “Get some rest. I’ll take care of the rest.” I nodded, tears pouring down my face. Aurora hurriedly put a coat on me and went inside with me, holding my hand tightly. I had only just sat down when Rachel messaged me: [Where are you? What gives you the right to just leave? Benjamin, reply to my message.] I didn’t reply after reading it and put my phone down, taking the hot cocoa that Aurora handed me. I took a sip, feeling warm and sweet. In five years, I had never felt so relieved. At that moment, the doorbell rang. Rachel entered with an angry look, which only subsided a little when she saw Kenneth and Aurora. “Kenneth, Aurora, I’ve come to take Benjamin home.” With that, she sat down on the couch. Aurora sneered, “Rachel, the Wellington family isn’t necessarily joining forces with the Johnson family. “We know how much my son has suffered in the five years since he married you. “He’s too good-tempered to argue with you. But I’m his mother, and I can’t let you get away with this.” Hearing Aurora’s words, Rachel was stunned on the couch. She hadn’t expected Aurora to say that. Whenever I ran away from home before, Aurora would send us away with kind words whenever Rachel came to pick me up. This time, Aurora’s words went beyond what she expected. Rachel looked over at me, her mouth opening and closing, failing to utter a word. At that moment, the door was pushed open, and Oliver came running in with red eyes. He said, “Mr. Wellington, Mrs. Wellington, it’s all my fault. It’s my fault for making Benjamin angry. Benjamin, please forgive Rachel.” With that, he nearly fell to the ground, and Rachel rushed to help him up. Watching the scene, I said, “Rachel, send Oliver away, and I’ll go back with you.”
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295243”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring
Leave a Reply