Benson

Chapter 238 Reunion

Time passed quietly, with the ticking of the clock’s second hand sounding particularly loud in the dark

room

Olivia and Benson had been facing off like this for nearly two hours, and the atmosphere in the room was growing increasingly oppressive.

Neither of them spoke much, and a subtle tension hung in the air.

Olivia felt her back stiffening, and her posture on the sofa became more and more uncomfortable.

She tried to stay calm, but the passage of time gradually made her feel powerless.

Benson sat on the sofa, his eyes fixed on his phone, his fingers scrolling across the screen, but his gaze was hollow and unfocused.

His expression conveyed a suppressed anger, as if he was growing tired of the prolonged waiting.

Whenever he glanced at Olivia, his brows would furrow slightly, showing a hint of impatience.

Olivia was so tired that she could barely keep her eyes open, though she tried to remain composed. But the anxiety and confusion in her heart lingered.

She knew that as his “first love,” she couldn’t easily push him away, but the long silence was tormenting her.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to make her voice sound more relaxed.

“Are you… are you going to sleep here?” Her words carried a hint of unease and hesitation.

Benson looked at her incredulously, his anger seeming ready to explode.

His face suddenly turned pale, and his eyes revealed deep disappointment and anger.

He abruptly stood up, his movements swift and rough, as if his patience had been completely exhausted.

The door slammed shut behind him with a loud “bang,” shaking the entire room.

Olivia breathed a sigh of relief but also felt a bit of helplessness.

Watching Benson’s retreating figure, she sighed inwardly.

This man had a terrible temper–being good–looking wasn’t enough to make up for it. No wonder Yvonne had to pretend to be his first love; it wasn’t an easy task.

Shaking her head, she felt like everything was just an elusive dream.

She quickly undressed, jumped into bed, and pulled the covers over herself, trying to quiet her mind in the silent room.

Despite the lingering unease, she knew she had to fall asleep quickly to regain her strength for the challenges ahead.

Meanwhile, Benson stormed back to his room, his anger still simmering.

When he entered, he saw Yvonne already asleep, her breathing steady and even.

He stood by the bedside, a complex emotion flickering in his eyes, his fingers reaching out, almost touching her cheek. But his hand paused in mid–air for a moment before he withdrew it.

He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, his heart a mix of emotions.

2/3

Once, his efforts to please, tolerate, and accommodate her seemed unable to win her genuine response.

Now, he found that their roles in the marriage had quietly reversed, and his discontent and disappointment were hard to let go of.

The next morning, when Yvonne woke up, Benson was already gone.

The marks on the bed showed he had left early.

She didn’t pay much attention, going about her usual routine of washing up, getting dressed, and preparing for the new day. Her mood was calm and natural, showing no confusion or sadness over Benson’s departure.

After getting ready, Olivia sent Yvonne a message, asking if she was awake and inviting her to breakfast.

Yvonne replied to her message, then waited at the room’s door. Not long after, Olivia appeared, linking arms with her, a light smile on her face.

“Where’s Benson?” Olivia asked, glancing at Yvonne, clearly curious about his whereabouts.

Yvonne shook her head, indicating she didn’t know.

His departure no longer mattered to her.

The two went downstairs together, entered the hotel’s restaurant, and had breakfast.

During the meal, Olivia brought up last night’s events, a faint, helpless smile on her face.

“Yvonne, what do you think he means by all this?” Her voice carried a trace of confusion, seeking an explanation.

Yvonne understood Benson’s intentions–he wanted to attract her attention and concern.

She knew what he was thinking, but she was unwilling to respond. She remained silent, quietly eating her breakfast, her heart filled with complex emotions.

After breakfast, Yvonne and Olivia waited for Benson in the hotel lobby.

The waiting felt long and dull, and Yvonne’s gaze occasionally swept across the lobby, searching for Benson’s figure.

Finally, Benson appeared, impeccably dressed in a suit. Although he still looked sharp, his face showed clear signs of fatigue and anger.

Beside Benson stood a man about his age, his face carrying a professional seriousness.

“This is Olivia’s therapist, Chandler,” Benson introduced, but his gaze remained on Yvonne.

Olivia awkwardly touched her nose, trying to hide her inner unease. Yvonne simply smiled and nodded, signaling her acceptance.

On the way back to Las Vegas, Chandler and Olivia had a long conversation. His voice was gentle and full of concern, but Olivia’s responses were cold and distant.

She was vague in her answers to the doctor’s questions, claiming she couldn’t remember or had forgotten, trying to avoid deeper discussions.

Yvonne, meanwhile, pulled a book from her bag and focused on reading.

Her expression was calm, but her mind was pondering something.

Compared to her composure, Benson seemed more irritable. His brows were tightly knit, as if dissatisfied and anxious about everything.

The plane finally landed smoothly at Las Vegas Airport, the sunlight breaking through the clouds to illuminate the runway, and it was nearing noon.

As the plane touched down, Olivia’s heart found some peace, reassured by the familiar land.

On the way back to Yvonne’s house, the scenery seemed to greet her with long–missed greetings.

When the car approached the house, Hannah was already waiting at the door, her figure warmly welcoming under the sunlight. When she saw Olivia step out of the car, her eyes widened, almost believing it was an illusion.

Until Olivia quickly stepped forward and hugged her tightly.

“Aunt Hannah, it’s been so long.” Olivia’s voice was filled with excitement and warmth, her eyes shimmering with tears–tears of joy at their reunion.

Hannah’s tears flowed uncontrollably as she touched Olivia’s face, her voice choked with emotion. “Oh my, it really is you, Olivia.” Her fingers gently brushed Olivia’s cheek as if confirming this wasn’t a dream. “It’s me, I’m back,” Olivia gently embraced Hannah, her heart filled with indescribable joy.

They held each other tightly, their tears mingling, unwilling to part for a long time. Finally, Hannah half–jokingly scolded, “Such a surprise, you should have told me earlier…” Yvonne watched quietly from the side, tears welling up in her own eyes.

She wiped them away, responding, “If I told you earlier, you’d have been too anxious.”

Hannah held Olivia’s hand, her eyes full of concern. “Tell me, what happened?”

“Dear Mom,” Yvonne’s voice was soft and earnest, interrupting Hannah’s inquiry, “Can we eat something first?”