Longing Beneath the Ashes

Laura’s head still spun, heavy and dizzy from blood loss. Before she could react, Benjamin had already scooped her up and deposited her into the car.

Jessica slid in after them, her expression faintly dissatisfied.

At the exhibition hall, Benjamin called his assistant to arrange a change of clothes. None of the gowns presented to Laura fit. In the end, she chose a sleek red evening dress—simple, without elaborate designs or diamond embellishments, yet it accentuated her fair skin with a unique, understated elegance.

Benjamin hated when she wore bright, eye-catching colors, but he’d also forgotten her size. So why wear ill-fitting clothes for someone who no longer mattered?

Once changed, Laura emerged just in time to see Jessica clinging affectionately to Benjamin’s arm—a picture-perfect couple.

"All of these were custom-made for you, Jessica," he said. "This is your first event like this with me. I’ll make sure all eyes are on you."

Jessica wore a handcrafted, midnight-blue gown studded with shimmering gemstones, instantly drawing every gaze in the room. Benjamin moved through the crowd with her, chatting and laughing with the social elite, his wife completely forgotten.

Watching their retreating backs, a wave of bleak despair washed over Laura. Already weakened from blood loss, every step required immense effort just to keep upright.

The auction began. For any lot that held Jessica’s gaze a moment too long, Benjamin immediately raised his paddle.

"Jessica, I’ll buy you anything you like," he announced. "Consider it an engagement present—to make up for not giving you a proper wedding."

Jessica looked genuinely moved. "Benjamin, just being with you is enough."

Even Laura, her heart long turned to ash, felt a wave of nausea at the sight.

This was the man she’d been married to for a decade. The man she’d loved for over ten years.

She shook her head. Benjamin hadn’t brought her here for compensation. He’d brought her to announce to the world that he intended to keep both women.

The aloof gentleman had shown his true colors—vulgar through and through.

"Wow, Benjamin's been sweeping the auction floor for her," someone murmured. "Nothing compares to the lady on his arm, does it?"

Whispers filled the room. Jessica’s cheeks flushed a coy pink at the comments, and Benjamin leaned in to tease her softly.

During the intermission, old family friends and gathered socialites toasted Jessica, their flattery a public slap in the face to the real Mrs. Benjamin.

Laura retreated from the noise. She hadn’t eaten since the hospital, and after having blood drawn far beyond her limit, she was desperate. All she wanted was to find the dessert display, to get some food and replenish her energy.

Noticing this, Jessica extricated herself from her circle and drifted toward the pastry table.

"Hungry, dear?" she asked sweetly. "One doesn't usually graze at events like this."

Laura ignored the deliberate provocation and tried to move away, but Jessica suddenly seized her wrist in a vice-like grip.

*Crash—* The plate in Laura’s hands hit the floor. Every eye in the room snapped toward them.

Tears welled in Jessica’s eyes, a picture of wounded innocence, while Benjamin frowned, his displeasure fixed on the shattered plate as he strode over.

"Benjamin, I was just trying to check on her, and she—"

He shot Laura a dark look, then suddenly increased the pressure on her shoulder—a silent warning not to make trouble.

But Laura, already struggling to stand, couldn’t brace against the sudden force. She stumbled backward.

She fell hard, her body crashing into the champagne and dessert display behind her. Bottles toppled, liquor splashed, pastries scattered, and Laura went down amidst the chaos. The red silk of her gown tore from the brutal friction against the floor.

Worst of all, shards from a broken bottle sliced into her exposed skin. Blood mingled with spilled alcohol and debris—a picture of utter wretchedness.

Benjamin had pulled Jessica clear the moment the display began to fall. Now, he was murmuring soft comforts to his ‘frightened’ lover.

All eyes were on Laura, disgraced and sprawled on the floor. Their gazes held mockery, disdain, and a flicker of concern. The whispers erupted.

"Domestic troubles for the Benjamins, it seems."

"She's still from a good family. How did she end up such a pathetic mess?"

"Oh my god—she's bleeding so much. Is she going to die?"

Laura lay on the ground, bloodstained and unconscious, with no one by her side. Fearing the worst, the event organizers immediately called for an ambulance.

When she opened her eyes again, the familiar smell of disinfectant filled her senses.

Her body was covered in scrapes; even the slightest movement sent waves of pain through her.

At the hospital, the doctor had cleaned and dressed her wounds, carefully removing the glass fragments embedded deep in her skin. The pain was so intense it kept pulling her in and out of consciousness.

Laura picked up her phone—only to see a prenatal report Benjamin had shared on his social feed. The caption read: **[A gift from heaven.]**

Beneath it, Jessica had commented: **[I’m the one who delivered it!]** A flood of congratulations followed.

Laura felt nothing but bitterness.

After ten years of marriage without a pregnancy, she had tried everything—seducing him in bed, using every trick she knew—yet she had never managed to conceive.

Because of it, she had endured endless gossip and judgment from the outside world.

Benjamin would always retreat to his meditation room, refusing her with detached calm. “I’m sorry, Laura,” he would say. “I don’t wish to indulge in desire.”

Suddenly, she remembered a moment at a banquet, when guests had teased them about having children. Benjamin had looked at the crowd, earnest and firm, and declared, “I, Benjamin, will have a child one day.”

Back then, Laura hadn’t thought much of it. She had even lowered her head, a little shy—completely missing the knowing glances exchanged around the room.

So his so-called “abstinence” had only ever applied to her.

A cold realization struck her: Benjamin’s older brother Ronald had died in an accident just a year ago. How could Benjamin be so certain he could be with his sister-in-law?

Before she could dwell on it, noise erupted outside her room. The door swung open.

Benjamin entered with Jessica, who stood shyly, a hand cradling her stomach.

“You’re being reckless, Laura. You still represent our family’s reputation. Do you have any idea how much of a scene you caused at the auction?”

His voice was thick with irritation.

“Consider this a chance to make amends. Jessica is carrying the heir to our family. You will return home and take proper care of her. That is your duty as the lady of the house.”

Laura almost laughed. Had Benjamin spent decades in some ancient temple, training his mind to be filled with nothing but outdated nonsense?

Her dismissive expression only angered him further.

He couldn’t understand why his once-obedient wife had become so defiant lately. The eyes that used to look at him with adoration were now filled with… scorn? Mockery?

He grabbed her and yanked her off the bed, furious at her defiance—completely ignoring how the movement tore open the wounds on her arm, blood soaking through the bandages.

Only when he saw the steady drip of blood hitting the floor did Benjamin release her in a panic.

“Laura, was this your plan? Cutting yourself up just to keep me here? Jessica is newly pregnant. Blood is inauspicious.”

He quickly pulled Jessica out of the room. Before the door closed, Jessica glanced back, her eyes locking with Laura’s in a clear, triumphant challenge.

Watching Benjamin’s hurried retreat, Laura felt every suppressed emotion surge to the surface at once.

It was as if those shattered glass fragments were piercing her heart all over again—slicing her insides into ragged, bleeding pieces.

Outside the room, Benjamin stared at the trail of blood, a knot of frustration tightening in his chest. A stray, unbidden thought flickered through his mind: *Did I push her too hard?*