Chapter 2 Marital Strife

“Miss Yvonne?” Throughout their marriage, Benson’s attitude had remained constant. His coldness towards Yvonne was like a winter wind—biting and heartless. Yvonne felt a deep sense of loss. She knew that no matter how much she pleaded, Benson would never give her the precious brooch. Her eyes revealed helplessness and sadness. It felt as if her heart was bound by heavy chains, impossible to break free from. She had tried to move Benson with kind words and sincere feelings, but each effort seemed like a stone thrown into an abyss, without any response. Benson’s indifference left Yvonne in despair. She began to think if there were other ways to get the brooch back from him. On the way home, Yvonne’s thoughts were as fleeting as the scenery outside the car window—chaotic and elusive. As the car slowly stopped at a traffic light, her eyes were drawn to the LED display on a building across the street. On the screen, Benson’s image was strikingly bright. He had bought a precious brooch for 21 million, a scene that stood out vividly in the night. The headline was particularly jarring to Yvonne: “Did Benson buy this brooch to propose to someone special?” On the screen, Benson looked spirited and confident, the brooch gleaming under the lights like the brightest star in the night sky. Yvonne felt a surge of complex emotions. Her heart was filled with a deep sense of loss. The brooch, once her cherished dream, was now in someone else’s hands. She couldn’t help but recall her marriage to Benson. The happiness that once existed now seemed so distant. She felt the pain of being forgotten, as if she had become insignificant in this marriage. Tears welled up in Yvonne’s eyes. She wiped away the tear that was about to fall. With trembling fingers, she dialed Benson’s number. Benson’s voice on the other end was as cold as ice. He only said two words: “What’s up?” His tone was impatient, like a winter wind—biting and heartless. Yvonne took a deep breath, her voice trembling but determined: “Benson, if you give me the brooch, we can divorce.” There was silence on the other end, as if time had frozen. But Benson didn’t respond. He hung up the phone, leaving Yvonne alone in the sudden silence. Yvonne didn’t call back. She knew Benson was tired of her. Her heart was filled with helplessness and sorrow. She felt she had lost all dignity and worth in this marriage. The brooch, once a symbol of her last attachment to this relationship, had now become her bargaining chip for divorce. A few days later, Benson finally appeared at the door of their marital home in the evening. His steps were heavy, as if each one carried an invisible burden. Yvonne had kept the house in perfect order, every corner reflecting her care and emotions. The plants in the corners were thriving, and even the bedside lamp cast a warm and romantic light. But to Benson, everything seemed so unfamiliar. His eyes wandered around the room, unable to replace any sense of familiarity. He felt a deep divide, as if an insurmountable chasm lay between him and this home. The housekeeper, seeing Benson return, greeted him softly: “Madam stayed in the living room all night yesterday and just returned to the bedroom.” Benson’s response was cold and brief. “Got it.” He then instructed the driver to put his luggage in the living room and walked upstairs with a barely noticeable heaviness. The bedroom door was ajar, revealing a neatly arranged room. Yvonne stood by the window, looking lonely but resolute, carefully tending to a potted plant. The green leaves thrived under her care, silently telling the story of life’s resilience. Yvonne heard Benson’s heavy footsteps, echoing in the spacious stairwell like cold raindrops on her heart. She slowly turned around, her gaze meeting Benson’s. In that moment, time seemed to freeze. Yvonne’s eyes no longer held the expectation and warmth of the past. Instead, they were covered with a layer of icy frost. She had built a wall around her heart, locking all her emotions inside. The two of them stared at each other in the bedroom, an unspeakable awkwardness and silence filling the air. Benson irritably removed his suit jacket, his movements revealing his impatience. He turned and went back to his room, a silent declaration of his cold attitude toward their marriage. Since they got married, they had always lived separately, a fact that deeply stung Yvonne. Yvonne gave a bitter smile, mocking her own naivety and foolishness. The brooch Benson bought at a high price, originally a romantic symbol of a proposal, had now become evidence of betrayal, disgracing Yvonne’s family. Benson had never given any explanation. His silence was like a sharp knife, repeatedly wounding Yvonne’s heart. Yvonne had helped Benson’s family, earning their gratitude. She longed to marry Benson to repay this debt. Benson’s family had to sacrifice his true love, tearing him apart from his beloved. Yvonne knew that her marriage was built on sacrifice. She thought, maybe it was her appearance that ruined the bond between Benson and his true love. This realization weighed heavily on her heart, making it hard to breathe. Yvonne sat by the window, looking at the night outside, filled with guilt. She thought that if not for her, Benson and his beloved might have lived happily together. Her presence had disrupted Benson’s life and ruined his relationship. Yvonne knew that Benson had never truly loved her. Another woman’s shadow always loomed in his heart. Yvonne felt a deep sense of helplessness, as if she was always the loser in this marital struggle. She felt the pain of being forgotten, as if she had become insignificant in this marriage. Yvonne gave a bitter smile, mocking her own naivety and foolishness. She thought, maybe this was fate, that she was destined to endure this loneliness and pain. She felt a deep sense of helplessness, as if she was always the loser in this marital struggle. On that sunny afternoon, Benson stood in front of Yvonne, confessing that he was in love with someone else. He was willing to repay Yvonne’s family’s kindness in any way, as long as she would let go and let him pursue his true love. If time could turn back, Yvonne would agree and not stubbornly say those binding words: “Benson, I just want to marry you.” If time could turn back, Yvonne would choose differently. She would understand Benson’s dilemma and accept his proposal, replaceing another way to repay the family’s kindness. But time doesn’t turn back. Yvonne’s words had already set things in stone. Her choice tightly bound their destinies together, sealing the tragedy of their marriage. Yvonne stood in a corner of the living room, methodically packing the last of her personal items into a box. Servants busily moved these boxes to the car outside. A heavy atmosphere of impending farewell filled the air, intensified by Benson’s presence. Benson slowly descended the stairs, bypassing Yvonne without a glance, and sat down on the living room sofa. “Where are you going?” She turned to look at Benson. He was indeed very handsome, his charm indescribable by any words. But beneath that perfect exterior, Yvonne smelled a perfume that didn’t belong to her—a scent of another woman. This perfume was like a cold bucket of water, waking Yvonne from her infatuation with Benson. She realized that no matter how perfect Benson was, his heart no longer belonged to her. This realization brought Yvonne a sense of relief and strengthened her resolve. Yvonne took a deep breath, her voice calm and firm: “I will have the divorce agreement prepared by a lawyer. The lawyer will contact you.” Benson sat on the sofa, a lit cigarette in his hand, smoke swirling around him. His eyes were cold and distant. He looked at Yvonne’s busy figure with a growing sense of impatience. “Haven’t you had enough?” “Enough? Do you think I’m just messing around?” Yvonne’s voice was calm, but each word revealed her determination. She realized that Benson had never taken her request for a divorce seriously. He thought it was just a tactic to achieve some goal. Yvonne took a deep breath, her eyes steady as she met Benson’s gaze. She slowly spoke: “I understand how you felt back then. I’m really sorry, Mr. Benson.” Her voice carried a hint of apology, but more so a sense of relief. Benson turned his head, meeting Yvonne’s eyes. In that moment, time seemed to freeze. Tears welled up in Yvonne’s eyes, revealing a helplessness that wasn’t hers. This helplessness and despair stunned Benson. He had never seen Yvonne so vulnerable. This sudden emotional impact caught him off guard. Before Benson could probe further, Yvonne had already turned around, as if fleeing an unbearable burden, and walked out the door…

Previous Chapter2/211Next Chapter