Chapter 8

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As I stood in the midst of the crowd, I found myself praying for strength. I didn't dare to look at my husband, but I could feel his gaze piercing through me. It was as if his stare was a physical entity, compelling me to scan the crowd for his reaction.

Evan stood at the center of the crowd; his face contorted into an expression that could only be described as murderous. The sight sent shivers down my spine. But there was no turning back now. I had to focus on the host, who was busy extolling my physical attributes.

The bidding for my company began at Twenty Thousand dollars. I couldn't help but feel that the amount was absurdly high. However, the bids kept coming. "Thirty Thousand" said a man from the far corner. "Fifty" chimed in another. Each of the bidders was impeccably dressed and handsome, a fact I was well aware of after two years of marriage to Evan.

The bidding escalated and then silence fell. The host called for higher bids, but none came. I was stunned. I was just an ordinary woman, yet these men were willing to spend a small fortune for a date with me. I humbled myself by repeating to myself that what these people really wanted was to donate this amount and not spend time with me.

Suddenly, a voice rang out, "Hundred Thousand." All heads turned towards the source of the voice. It was Evan. Of course, he wouldn't let another man have me.

The auctioneer counted to three and sold my card to Evan with a loud roar of applause from the guests.

Evan rose from his seat, adjusted his suit button, and walked confidently towards the stage. He extended his hand to me, and we walked out of the crowd together, his grip firm on my hand. I could feel the eyes of the crowd on us, their gazes fixated on our joined hands.

I was praying to the Heavenly Father to help me gather some courage, ever since we left the venue. My husband was so pissed he insisted on driving himself. "Praying to Jesus will not save you from me." The cold waring in his voice sent chills down my spine.

Evan had been silent the entire ride, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. I sat beside him, my heart pounding in my chest. His anger was palpable, a living thing in the car with us. I had never seen him like this before, and it scared me. I had disappointed him, and the weight of that realization was crushing.

I opened my mouth to speak, to explain, but he silenced me with a flick of his hand. His eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, his jaw clenched. I swallowed hard, my throat dry. But I couldn't let it end like this. I had to make him understand.

"Evan," I began, my voice barely a whisper. He didn't respond, but I pressed on. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I just... I thought..."

He cut me off with a bitter laugh. "You thought what? That going out with other men would be fun? That it wouldn't matter?"

His words stung, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. "No, Evan. I couldn't .....I couldn't refuse." I explained to him the events unfolded after Leslie came over to our table.

"You could've refused if you wanted to. You time and attention are only mine, Rose. Did you forget that?" How could I forget it? I was devoted to him. He looked at me then, his anger replaced by a deep sadness. "Do you prefer their company over mine?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

I shook my head, tears welling in my eyes. "No, Evan. I don't. I'm sorry. I made a mistake." I didn't regret my actions, but I realized that they caused unnecessary distress to my husband. Despite knowing it would impact him, I ended up doing the very thing I often blamed him for.

He was silent for a long moment, his gaze searching mine. "I'm disappointed, you know," he said finally. "I thought we were enough for each other."

His words hit me like a physical blow. I had hurt him, and the guilt was overwhelming. "You're enough for me," I whispered. "I made a mistake."

He didn't respond immediately, but after a long moment, he reached out and took my hand. His grip was firm, reassuring. Relief washed over me.

The rest of the evening was a whirlwind. We dined at a lavish restaurant, where Evan was the perfect gentleman. He pulled out the chair for me, ordered our meals, and even asked me to dance. We swayed to the rhythm of soft romantic music, lost in each other's eyes.

In the midst of it all, I found the courage to tell Evan that I loved him. His reaction was not what I had hoped for, but I held onto the belief that he loved me too, even if he couldn't say the words.

I undressed slowly, feeling Evan's gaze on me. I remembered the dark promise he'd made earlier, but after the events of the evening, it didn't feel appropriate. The night didn't go as I'd planned. But Evan? He didn't seem to sweat it one bit. He held onto his words and helped me out of the dress. His eyes darted between my face and lips before capturing my lips. He was so needy.

"Let's cuddle." I said breaking away. It felt like the hardest thing for me to do. I'd have loved to give up control and let him take me the way he wanted. I had really missed his touch. My period starting this week had held us off from being intimate, but I was done now and needed him so badly. But more than sex we needed to be clear in the head.

He protested like I had hoped. "Once I've had my cock in you, we can cuddle all you want."

"I want you too. But I didn't plan on sleeping with the guy who won the date bid with me, so I'd like to stand on my principles for a little while longer." He snorted and kissed me on the mouth again. I was relieved he found the situation amusing enough to smile.

I slipped into bed, feeling the warmth of his body as he wrapped his arms around me. His touch was comforting, a balm to the tension that had hung in the air between us. The weight of the day seemed to lift from my shoulders as I snuggled closer to him.

The night ended with us cuddling in bed, a suggestion I had made to help relieve Evan's stress. It was an unusual way to end the evening, but it was intimate and comforting. Despite the ups and downs, it was a night I would always remember.

• • •


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