The Return of Her First Love

On our third wedding anniversary, my wife's first love came back to town. Right in front of everyone, he pulled out a piece of lingerie and handed it to her. "I always thought you looked your best in this," he said. As the crowd laughed, my wife didn't get upset—instead, she looked almost coy. "Well, that depends on who I'm wearing it for," she replied. Then she turned to me, her eyes dripping with contempt. "Why would I bother trying to impress a man with no romance in his bones?" Her first love shot me a smug look. I just smiled, raised my glass to him, and walked off. But suddenly, my wife didn't look so sure of herself anymore. Chapter 1 Inside the private room, Rick Gilbert stepped forward. "Michelle, now that I'm back in the country, I've got a big surprise for you." Amid the crowd's cheers, Rick opened the box in his hands. A piece of sheer, lace lingerie lay quietly inside. Just one look at it, and Michelle Safra's face flushed red. The crowd hooted and hollered. Rick shot a provocative glance my way. "Cyrus, this gift is meant to spice things up between you and your wife. You don't mind, do you?" Before I could even answer, Michelle let out a contemptuous snort. "Him? He's just a clueless bumpkin. He wouldn't know romance if it hit him in the face." Everyone looked at me with mocking grins. They all knew the score—in this relationship, I'd always been Michelle's doormat. She could trample all over my pride anytime, anywhere. Everyone expected me to blow up, only to get shot down by her again. But instead, I felt strangely calm. I looked at Rick and gave a slight raise of my glass. "Have fun." After downing my drink in one go, I stood up and walked away without looking back. "Hey, hey, hey, it was just a joke! No need to get so worked up!" Rick called after me with fake concern. But Michelle couldn't have cared less. "Can't even take a joke. What a buzzkill." A joke? I didn't see it that way. But then again, it didn't really matter anymore. The moment I stepped outside, my phone buzzed with a text from a buddy. [Cyrus, a few of us are heading to Alexis Lounge tonight. You in?] I asked for the address and drove over. When I arrived, my friends greeted me warmly. I poured myself a drink and knocked it back. One of them teased, "Cyrus, no fear of the wife checking up on you tonight?" "Since when did the henpecked husband grow a pair? Did hell freeze over?" I didn't take the ribbing personally—just laughed it off, grabbed a mic, and started belting out off-key tunes with the rest of them. Time flew. Before I knew it, midnight had come and gone. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Michelle. "Do you even know what time it is?! Have you forgotten you have a home?" Her tone was dripping with reproach and accusation. I turned the screen off and ignored her. Right now, all I wanted was to push her out of my head, even if just for a little while. That's when my buddy slid over next to me. He was both my close friend and my boss. "Benedict, business at the branch office is booming. You sure you don't want to give it a shot? You're too talented to waste away here." This wasn't the first time he'd tried to get me to take the branch manager position. He always thought I deserved a bigger stage. Ever since the branch launched, he'd had his eye on me for the role. There was also the fact that the branch was based in my hometown. But I'd turned him down every time—because of Michelle. As a husband, I didn't feel right leaving my wife behind. But now, every time I thought of her, all I saw was that lingerie. Rick had said he bought it in her exact size. And she hadn't refused it—instead, she'd looked at him with nothing but tenderness. Maybe they were the ones who really belonged together. Maybe it was time for me to step aside. I raised my glass, clinked it against my buddy's, and tossed it back. "I'm in." "Ha! Finally coming to your senses," he said with a grin, taking a sip of his own drink and clapping me on the shoulder. "Alright, I'll make the arrangements. Get ready—you leave in three days, tops." "Got it." I nodded, but a wave of restlessness washed over me. I got up to splash some water on my face in the restroom. When I came out into the hallway, I was met with the sight of Michelle, fuming. "Cyrus Benedict, do you have any idea what time it is?! You're not coming home, you're ignoring my texts—what's going on?!" Chapter 2 I stared at Michelle coldly, took a deep breath, and forced down the storm brewing behind my eyes. "You do your thing, I'll do mine. What's the problem?" We'd been married for three years, and she'd never allowed me any say in her life. Especially after Rick came back—she'd been coming home later and later each night. Every time I texted her out of concern, she'd not only ignore me but later tear into me for being too controlling, saying I was suffocating her. "Do you even realize today is our wedding anniversary? You ditched me to go drinking by yourself—were you trying to embarrass me on purpose?" Michelle's beautiful eyes blazed at me, a torrent of accusations raining down. "Rick hardly ever comes back. He just gave me a little gift. Are you really going to make a big deal out of nothing?" I was making a big deal out of nothing? A wave of bitterness washed over me. So she did know it was our anniversary. I'd spent weeks preparing a gift and booked a fancy restaurant. But the second she heard Rick was back in town, she'd turned our romantic dinner into a group hangout without a second thought. And all night, she'd been making eyes at him across the table. She hadn't considered my feelings for a second. And now she had the nerve to grill me? "Come home. Stop hanging out with those deadbeat friends of yours." Without waiting for my response, Michelle grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the car. The alcohol was hitting me hard—my head was spinning, and I could barely put up a fight as she pulled me along. But just as we stepped outside, her phone rang. She picked up, and whoever was on the other end made her face go tight with worry. "Rick passed out? I told you guys he has a bad stomach—did you force him to drink?! I'm on my way, just wait for me!" She hung up and immediately let go of my arm. "Rick's not feeling well. I need to take him to the hospital. You can grab a cab home yourself." I glanced at the empty street and said nothing. She huffed in irritation. "Can you stop going mute every time I ask you to do something? I really can't stand it when you act like that." I pressed my fingers against my throbbing temples, grabbed my jacket, and started walking slowly toward the end of the street. I didn't spare her a single glance. "You'd better be home when I get back—or else we're getting a divorce!" Michelle hurled that threat at me, then jumped into her car and sped off without a moment's hesitation. I walked alone through the cold night. It was freezing out, but my heart felt even colder. Once again, Michelle had chosen Rick over me. By the time I got home, I was completely drained. I collapsed onto the bed and fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. The next morning, I was jolted awake by Michelle's voice. "It's so late—why aren't you up making breakfast?" She looked like she'd just walked in—still wearing last night's clothes, reeking of alcohol. She stood by the bed, her eyes full of displeasure. I rubbed my brow and gave her a tired, dismissive reply. "I drank too much last night. My head's killing me. Just grab something yourself." Michelle's brows shot up in obvious annoyance. She was an incredibly picky eater—most regular breakfast options were a no-go for her, which had wrecked her stomach over the years. After we got together, I'd put in so much effort learning how to cook all kinds of nutritious meals, tailoring everything to her taste. That was the only way she'd finally started eating on a regular schedule. But apparently, she'd come to see all that effort as her due. She never thanked me sweetly when I set a carefully prepared breakfast in front of her. But if I ever slipped up even once? You'd better believe she'd let me hear about it. Chapter 3 "You can't even make breakfast right—what can you even do?!" Michelle scolded. I rolled over and ignored her. She let out a couple of angry huffs, spun around, and spat out a "worthless loser" before storming off. She didn't even notice how I was feeling. But the strange thing was—I didn't feel hurt at all. If anything, I felt almost relieved. Like I'd just gotten used to it. After she left, I headed to the office. With the branch transfer in the works, I threw myself into a whirlwind of work. It kept my mind off Michelle, at least for a little while. After work, I remembered I still had a gym membership card lying around. Since I'd be leaving soon, I figured I'd cancel whatever classes I had left. But the moment I walked into the gym, I spotted two familiar figures in the corner. Michelle was wearing a fitted sports tank and yoga pants that hugged every curve of her body. Her skin was flushed, glistening with a light sheen of sweat. Right behind her, Rick pressed close against her back, his hands wrapped around her slim waist. On the surface, it looked like he was coaching her on her form. But anyone with eyes could see something else was going on. And Michelle didn't seem to mind one bit. Her eyes were curved into happy crescents, her face glowing with affection. The two of them went through the motions half-heartedly. Every now and then, Rick gave her backside a playful tap, and she'd respond with a coy little smile. I'd pictured this scene before. I thought I'd be furious, that I'd lose it. But standing there in that moment, all I felt was peace. I walked up to the front desk and quietly processed my refund. I planned to slip out without a word. But Rick's sharp eyes caught me anyway. "Well, well, Cyrus—didn't peg you for the gym type." I turned around. Michelle and Rick had already made their way over to me. Standing side by side, they looked like the perfect couple. Rick casually wiped the sweat from Michelle's neck as he grinned at me. Michelle, however, furrowed her brows, her gaze dripping with suspicion. "What are you doing here?!" I looked at her steadily and answered flatly. "You're the one who got me this membership. You told me to come work out more." Michelle froze for a second, a flicker of embarrassment crossing her face. Rick saw his opening and naturally draped his arm around Michelle's shoulders, flashing me a smug grin. "Cyrus, don't waste your time here. We're just about done anyway—why don't we head back together?" He deliberately emphasized the word "together," as if to drive home just how close they were. And Michelle didn't push him away—if anything, she leaned into him, adjusting herself so he could hold her more comfortably. Watching them stand there like that, so intimately tangled, I felt nothing. I just nodded. "Sure. Let's go." Rick seemed taken aback by my composure. A flash of malice flickered in his eyes. But just as quickly, his smile was back in place. "Alright then. Let's roll." We got to the parking lot. Rick casually pulled out a set of car keys and unlocked my car. I blinked. That was my car. Where'd he get the keys? Rick shot me a triumphant look. "Sorry, Cyrus—I mentioned I liked driving, and Michelle was kind enough to lend it to me. I'm pretty used to it now, so just sit back and enjoy the ride." Michelle hopped into the passenger seat like it was second nature. Seeing me still standing there, she snapped impatiently, "Get in already. Your office is right nearby anyway—what do you even need a car for?" I opened the back door and slid in, feeling nothing but exhaustion. I didn't have the energy to argue with her anymore. Chapter 4 On the way home, Michelle and Rick chatted away like old friends. I sat quietly in the back seat, listening, but my mind kept drifting back to the past. Michelle and I met in college. That summer, a group of us took a road trip to go camping. We'd been out all day and were completely wiped out. By the time we headed back, it was already dark. I was driving, and Michelle naturally took the passenger seat. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her beautiful profile flickering in and out of the shadows as we passed under streetlights. There was something so alluring about the lazy look on her face, the faint, almost teasing smile tugging at the corner of her lips. My heart started racing without my permission. That was when I first started paying attention to her. Times had changed. She was still sitting in the passenger seat—but it wasn't my passenger seat anymore. As Michelle stretched her arms, I noticed her wedding ring was gone. In its place was a plain silver band. Rick had one on his finger too. One look was all it took to know they were a matching set. My heart sank another degree. When we dropped Rick off at his place, Michelle actually got out of the car to hug him goodbye. They lingered for a while, reluctant to part, before she finally climbed back in. From that moment on, the atmosphere in the car went dead quiet. There was nothing left to say between us. When we got home, I walked straight into the study and started going over work documents for my new position. I was deliberately avoiding being alone with Michelle. But she had zero ability to read the room. "Where's my anniversary gift?" She pushed the door open, stood in front of me, and held out her hand. Her tone was demanding, as if me getting her a gift was just something she was entitled to. I guess that made sense. Every special occasion before this, I'd always gone out of my way to get her something thoughtful. But the night she ran off to Rick, I'd tossed that gift straight into the trash. "I didn't get you anything," I said flatly. Michelle's face soured. "Why? Is this still about Rick? Are you seriously mad at me over that?" "No. I've still got work to do. Can you give me some space?" I shook my head lightly. A flash of anger crossed her face, but she didn't say anything else. She just left and slammed the door behind her with as much force as she could muster. Once she was gone, I pulled out my phone and called my lawyer. I asked him to start drafting divorce papers. I was done holding onto a relationship that had already gone sour. Michelle didn't come home that night—or the whole next day. The following evening, while I was at work, she texted me asking to meet for dinner. I was about to turn her down, but when I got off work, she was already waiting outside the office. "Cyrus, I know I've been getting on your nerves. I made a reservation at your favorite restaurant—think of it as my way of making it up to you." She was all smiles, dressed to the nines with meticulous makeup. For a moment, I let myself believe she was genuinely sorry. Then we got to the restaurant, and a familiar figure came strolling toward our table. "Rick! Over here!" Michelle lit up like a schoolgirl, threw her arms wide, and practically ran over to him. Rick scooped her up in a hug, his smug expression completely unguarded. Right then and there, I felt like a complete clown. I turned around and started heading for the exit. Michelle hurried after me and grabbed my sleeve, her face twisting with irritation. "What's with the attitude? I thought we agreed to have dinner together?" I looked at her, my voice cold and serious. "Michelle, if you want to be with your boyfriend, I honestly couldn't care less. All I'm asking is that you stop dragging me into it. I'm done being your prop for a cheap thrill."