Benson
Benson 14

Chapter 14 Full of Emotions

Benson’s attitude was like a cold wind, sharp and clear, but his breath was like the summer si

sun, hot and intense.

This warmth flowed over Yvonne’s neck, making her instinctively shrink back, trying to avoid the sudden touch.

She felt Benson’s fingers clumsily fumbling through her hair, clearly struggling with tying the hair tie Time ticked by, and the hair the remained unsecured, making Yvonne sense Benson’s impatience and frustration.

Meanwhile, Benson’s chest was pressed against Yvonne’s back. Though not entirely, the heat from his body was undeniable, permeating through their clothes and creating a strange sense of pressure.

This feeling was both unfamiliar and familiar, causing Yvonne’s heartbeat to quicken

In this awkward and delicate moment, Yvonne took off her oven mitts, her face flushing, seemingly affected by Benson’s warmth. She spoke softly, “I’ll do it myself.”

Benson’s gaze slowly moved away from the reddening nape of Yvonne’s neck, his voice tinged with confusion, “Why? You’re not used to me being nice to you?

Yvonne’s response carried a detached distance, “It’s fine, just keep your boundaries in mind.” Her calm voice held a firm resolve,

Having decided to divorce, Yvonne didn’t want to accept Benson’s kindness anymore.

Benson felt the coldness in Yvonne’s words, a familiar discomfort from her hot–and–cold demeanor resurfacing.

He fell silent, not probing further, but his eyes remained fixed on Yvonne

Marcus walked into the kitchen cheerfully, his voice filled with anticipation, “Yvonne, is the cake ready? I could smell ir.”

Yvonne smiled, “Yes, Marcus. If you don’t mind the heat, you can try it. I added coconut flakes, it should taste good.”

Marcus’s eyes lit up with excitement, “It’s a privilege to taste a cake made by Miss Yvonne.”

Benson stood at the kitchen door, expressionless, his mood complex and heary. Watching Marcus and Yvonne Interact stirred indescribable feelings within him.

He quietly left the kitchen, lighting a cigarette at the door, his thoughts drifting with the smoke.

Listening to their conversation, Benson’s mind wandered back to past memories. His mother often mentioned how delicious Yvonne’s coconut cakes were, but he had never tasted one in all their years of marriage.

Every weekend, under the sun’s warm rays, Yvonne would bring her carefully made coconut cake, walking lightly down the path to the estate. Her steps were light, filled with thoughts of Victoria and respect.

The coconut cake she baked with care, each layer filled with deep gratitude and love for Victoria

Yet, he often saw the cake Yvonne cut for him on the table, but he always rejected it internally and never touched a piece.

Taking a deep drag of his cigarette, Benson felt a pang of regret. What he had dismissed as insignificant was seen as a fortunate thing by others,

He never realized how precious those ignored details were to others.

He began to reflect on whether he truly understood Yvonne, whether he had ever cherished their relationship.

The singles party ended amidst joyous laughter, with the sounds of clinking glasses creating a lively atmosphere. However, Yvonne, the main character, never showed up. She chose solitude, making it feel more like a welcome party for Benson rather than one for her.

Benson drank heavily at the party, the alcohol making him feel dizzy-

When he returned to the main house, it was late at night.

He casually threw his suit jacket aside and collapsed onto the sofa, looking quite despondent.

His eyes inadvertently fell on the coffee table, where a plate of sliced coconut cake was placed.

The cake’s golden color and sprinkled coconut flakes emitted a tempting aroma, loolding very appetizing.

A wave of emotion surged in Benson. He picked up a piece of cake and took a bite. The cake’s delicate texture and sweet coconut flavor spread in his mouth, making him sigh.

Only now, at the end of their marriage, did he taste Yvonne’s cake for the first time.

He felt deeply moved, realizing Yvonne was not at fault; it was the timing that was wrong. The order of life’s events is crucial.

They met at a point in their lives but couldn’t see it through to the end. At this moment, Benson was filled with regret.

He didn’t continue eating the cake. Slowly, he got up and returned to his room

The night deepened. A servant quietly brought a freshly squeezed orange juice, knocking on Benson’s door.

Benson’s voice, tinged with drunkenness, came from behind the door, “Come in.” The servant entered.

Respectfully handing the juice to Benson, the servant explained

Yvonne specifically Instructed this to help with your headache from drinking roo

much!

A flicker of surprise crossed Benson’s face. He didn’t expect Yvonne to still care for him.

“The servant replied, “Miss Yvonne is still up, Would you like to drink the juice?

He hesitated, asking. “Is she still awake?”

Benson’s gaze fell on the orange juice. After a moment’s hesitation, he took it and drank it down in one gulp.

He thought to himself, Yvonne’s kindness is something he shouldn’t miss again.

Yvonne, in her room, groggily heard a knock on the de

door

She rubbed her sleepy eyes and got up to open the door, Standing outside was a household servant. Yvonne asked, puzzled, “Is there something you need?

The servant replied, “Master Benson wants to see you.

Yvonne was even more confused. She looked at the clock on the wall and asked, “So late? Why?

The servant shook their head, Indicating they didn’t know,

Yvonne looked down at her attire, a modest one –|

piece nightgown that fit her snugly.

The nightgown was of a soft hae, the fine fabric clinging to her skin, comfortable and breathable. Its design was simple yet elegant, without excessive adornments, exuding understated luxury.

The gown’s fit was perfect, neither too tight nor too loose, perfectly showcasing Yvonne’s figure.

The delicate stitching at the neckline and cuffs reflected her taste and pursuit of quality in life, and there was nothing inappropriate about it.

After a moment’s hesitation, she decided to see Benson. She walked down the long hallway, arriving at Benson’s room on the third floor,

The door was closed, and Yvonne paused, thinking, Didn’t he want to see me? She knocked gently but received no response.

Not wanting to face another awkward situation, she stood at the door, raising her voice slightly, “Benson, what do you want?

At that moment, the door slowly opened, and Benson stood there, his eyes red.

Sensing something was wrong, Yvonne turned to leave, but Benson grabbed her and pulled her into the room.