Benson
Benson 105

Chapter 105 Memories on the Bedsheet

Yvonne left Marcus’s home and boarded the last flight back to North Mountain.

Before boarding, she posted on Facebook, “Striving in our own ways, we will meet again.” The post included a picture of a large bouquet of roses Marcus had once given her.

The night was deep, and Benson was still awake, his mood complex and heavy. When he saw Yvonne’s new post, a feeling he couldn’t quite describe rose within him.

The bouquet of roses felt like a silent mockery, reminding him that Yvonne’s thoughts were not with him.

George entered the office with printed copies of the proposal Benson had created and saw Benson staring at Yvonne’s post, his gaze somber. “Madam has returned to North Mountain, squeezed in economy class,” George said casually.

Benson turned off his phone without a word. His emotions were complicated, and something deep inside him was stirred.

He stayed in Bergen for two more days. Apart from a few minor incidents, everything went smoothly. As the project reached its preliminary conclusion, Benson told George, “You go back first; I’m going to North Mountain.”

He knew Yvonne had not yet left.

She had been closely following the BR project. Although the other party was sincere, she handled every little detail exceptionally well.

In her spare time, she visited luxury department stores in North Mountain and engaged with industry professionals, not wasting a moment.

Benson had not understood her before, only replaceing her attractive. Now he realized that her beauty was the least significant thing about her. It was no wonder Marcus was willing to go to such lengths for her- she was worth it!

In public, Yvonne also saw herself as a resilient and capable person.

When Marcus left, he didn’t let her see him off, and she didn’t go. Her work in North Mountain was tightly scheduled, keeping her busy. But in her idle moments, she felt uncomfortable and sad.

Although she hadn’t known Marcus for long, his sudden departure left her feeling very down.

Returning to the hotel, Yvonne sat in the lobby’s sofa for half an hour, staring blankly ahead.

Her eyes were empty, her fingers lightly tapping on the sofa armrest as if searching for some comfort.

Megan walked over, seeing Yvonne’s state, feeling uneasy. She didn’t know how to comfort her. In private, Yvonne had been very silent and preferred solitude these past two days.

Yvonne noticed the piano in the hotel lobby and suddenly felt a stirring in her heart.

She got up and walked over, sitting gently at the piano. Her fingers touched the cold keys, replaceing an outlet for her emotions.

Soon, the quiet hotel lobby was filled with the soft sound of piano music.

”

When Benson arrived, he heard the beautiful piano melody. It was “Moonlight Sonata,” a piece with a Tovely yet melancholic and sorrowful tune.

He saw Yvonne sitting at the piano, her expression focused and sad, her fingers dancing over the keys, seemingly pouring out her inner bitterness.

Chapter 105 Meineries on the Bedsheel

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Benson’s face turned extremely grim, Marcus’s departure had left her so distraught ?1 Was she missing him through playing the piano?

Megan noticed Benson first and stood up from the sofa, raising her voice, “Mr. Benson, why are you here?”

Yvonne didn’t respond; she just wanted to play the piano to lift her spirits.

A shadow loomed over her, and Benson grabbed her wrist, abruptly stopping the music. She looked up to see Benson’s cold, angry face.

“He just went abroad, not dead, and you’re this sad? We were going through a divorce, and I never saw you this upset!” Benson’s voice was cold, filled with dissatisfaction and anger.

“You don’t deserve to be compared to him,” Yvonne was in a bad mood, force, and I never saw

forceful nature. If it weren’t for him, Marcus wouldn’t have left.

up with his domineering and

“Yes, you have a new lover, and the old one is no longer appealing, right?” He was genuinely angry now. She really stood up for Marcus.

She must really have feelings for Marcus now.

He tore off his tie, pinning her down, looking at her from above. “You know you’re the old love…” he said softly, his tone mocking

Before she could respond, he kissed her. Their clothes fell by the door, and the tension in her mind. snapped…

He had said that as long as she didn’t agree, he wouldn’t force her. He forgot again…

Her nose tingled, and she looked at him, tears welling up in her eyes, feeling quite wronged.

Benson recalled the lyrics of an English song she played: Why do I feel so heartbroken in your eyes…

He sighed, coming to her because he knew she was upset and wanted to be with her.

Just like last time, when he watched that video, he felt pity and wanted to make it up to her. But it seemed like every time, he was forcing her…

He kissed her for a long time but didn’t force her in the end. But his actions made Yvonne feel ashamed,” Benson, you’re a bastard!”

He smiled, enjoying her angry look… only then did he feel a bit more at ease.

Benson held her on the sofa. Yvonne closed her eyes, unwilling to face him, though her flushed face betrayed her lack of calm. Benson noticed the tear stains at the corners of her eyes.

“Don’t be shy, we’re married,” he said softly. It was the most intimate relationship.

Yvonne snapped, “Get away from me, you hypocrite!”

She didn’t appreciate his tenderness, and Benson remained patient, “You never spoke to me like this before.”

“You said it yourself, that was before, before… her mood was terrible. “I was blind before, liking and loving someone like you, a scumbag.”

Benson

gently held her, stroking her softly. Yvonne didn’t like it, struggling. The man’s low laughter came from above, “Insects, wriggling around… If you keep wriggling, don’t blame me; I didn’t plan to hold back.

She had seen his shamelessness now; she felt tired and powerless.

“Benson, what will it take for you to let me go? You don’t lack women; you have Mary. Why cling to me? I admit defeat, I can’t fight you. Can you let me go?”

weje i tos Memones on the Dedib et

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He still held her gently, ignoring her question, “Do you still want to cry? Cry all you want today, but after that, you can’t think about him anymore.”

Benson, Marcus and I aren’t what you think.”

“What then? If nothing happened, you’re like this… If something did, are you trying to drive me crazy?” He pinched her chin, his tone and gaze quite indulgent.

Yvonne: “”

She was really fed up with him; he was harsh and fierce before, now like this… was he schizophrenic?

Yvonne closed her eyes, feeling exhausted talking to him!

After Yvonne left, North Mountain remained as desolate as ever, the gray sky shrouding the barren wilderness in silence.

Only Benson was left, waking in a daze in that shabby hotel.

Beside him, the bed was empty; the woman’s shadow was gone. The sheets still carried her scent and creases, as if proving she had been there. He touched his forehead, feeling heavy.

Last night’s enthusiastic encounter had ended in emptiness. He got up, leaning on one hand, while the other absentmindedly stroked the sheet.

The clock by the bed pointed to nine in the morning. Sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting dappled shadows on his lonely figure.

Everything in the room, from the modern furniture to the cold lighting, felt overly unfamiliar.

Benson dragged his heavy steps to the bathroom, letting the water pour down from above, trying to clear his mind with the cold water, washing away the unease and loss.

By noon, Benson returned to his home in Las Vegas. The house was quiet, with only the occasional sound of Maria moving about.

He collapsed on the soft sofa, trying to force himself to take a nap but couldn’t fall asleep. His thoughts ran wild like untamed horses, unable to stop.

At dusk, the doorbell rang, pulling him out of his reverie.

Benson trudged to the door, Maria’s anxious expression meeting his eyes. “Sir, what would you like for dinner?” she tried to keep her tone normal.

Benson rubbed his temples, hesitated, then asked, “Is madam coming back for dinner tonight?” purely out

of habit.

Maria shook her head gently, her hands clasping her apron. “Madam asked me to tell you she might not come back again; she wants a separation.”