Chapter 69
A birthday wish that stripped away all adult pretenses, filled with an almost childlike anticipation.
And just moments ago, I had been analyzing our relationship through the lens of business interests and cold calculations.
My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, waves of bitterness and regret washing over me.
I watched his eyes gradually dim because of my silence, the heavy disappointment in them like the finest needle, piercing precisely into the softest part of my heart.
I quietly slid my phone back into my pocket, lifted my head, and met his heavy gaze.
"Benjamin," I heard my own voice, calmer than I expected, yet carrying an unmistakable solemnity, "you still owe me a proposal and an engagement ceremony. You'll have to make up for it twice over later."
He froze, seeming unable to immediately grasp the shift in my words.
I stepped forward, wrapped my arms around his neck, and whispered in his ear, in a voice only we could hear, "Yes, let's go register our marriage. And happy birthday."
His arms around me tightened instantly, with such force it felt like he wanted to merge me into his body.
I could clearly feel his usually steady heart pounding violently at an out-of-control rhythm, making my eardrums buzz.
After a long moment, he finally responded in my ear with a hoarse voice, suppressing extreme joy, "Okay."
He didn't give me any chance to back out, taking my hand and leading me straight to the car.
Sitting in the passenger seat, watching the scenery fly backward outside the window, I was still in a state of extreme unreality. Just like that, on an ordinary evening, I found myself agreeing to a man's almost absurd proposal.
There weren't many people at city hall, and the process was incredibly fast.
When taking photos, the photographer told us to get closer, and Benjamin naturally put his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his embrace.
The moment the flash went off, I looked at the camera, my lips curving up unconsciously, while beside me, his usually unfathomable eyes softened with an unprecedented gentle smile.
When the two fresh marriage certificates were handed to us, I still felt like I was dreaming.
I opened my marriage certificate and looked at our photo together. In it, I was smiling brightly and openly, in a way I'd never seen myself before.
"Mrs. Wilson," Benjamin's deep voice sounded in my ear. He took the certificate from my hand, put both together, and placed them in his coat's inner pocket with such solemnity, as if storing some rare treasure. "Now, we're legally married."
That "Mrs. Wilson" made my cheeks burn, yet my heart felt like it was filled with honey, sweet to the point of being almost cloying.
We walked out of the city hall side by side, immersed in this sudden joy.
Just as we passed a hurried figure nearby, my steps unconsciously paused.
It was a man, tall and thin, his back radiating an indescribable dejection and desolation.
He was looking down, talking to someone who looked like a lawyer, holding some documents. I vaguely caught sight of "termination of adoption."
That silhouette was familiar, very much like Michael.
A trace of annoyance crossed my mind, but I had no interest in even looking twice.
Whether he lived or died now, whether he continued playing the tragic hero or struggled in his family's quagmire, had nothing to do with me anymore.
I withdrew my gaze, leaving this insignificant little episode behind.
"Benjamin, are we really married?" I shook our clasped hands, still finding it incredible.
"Absolutely real." He looked down at me, the smile in his eyes about to overflow. "Having regrets?"
"Not at all." I looked up at him. The winter evening wind made my cheeks a bit cold, but my heart was burning.
I stood on my tiptoes and gently planted a kiss on his hard jaw.
His whole body stiffened, then immediately, two scorching flames ignited in those deep eyes.
"It's cold outside," his Adam's apple bobbed, and he pulled me quickly toward a large shopping mall nearby. "Let's go inside."
The mall was well-heated. The dazzling shop windows and bustling crowds finally brought my heart, which had been floating in the clouds since getting our certificate, back down to earth.
I excitedly pulled him along, like a child visiting the city for the first time, finding everything fascinating.
Passing a jewelry store, I remembered he still owed me a proposal ring. Passing a men's clothing store, I started thinking about what to buy him.
Benjamin just indulgently followed behind me, letting me drag him around everywhere.
My gaze was suddenly drawn to a warmly decorated DIY bakery.
"Let's make a birthday cake?" I tugged his hand and winked at him.
Benjamin clearly hadn't expected me to suggest this. He looked at the young couples inside wearing aprons with cream on their hands, his brow furrowing slightly, seeming somewhat uncomfortable with this environment.
But I didn't give him a chance to refuse, pulling him straight inside.
The staff enthusiastically tied aprons on us. I chose Benjamin's favorite chocolate flavor.
He seemed to be doing this for the first time, his movements still a little awkward. When whipping the cream, he even accidentally splattered a bit on my nose.
I glared at him, but he chuckled softly, reached out with his fingertip, naturally wiped the cream from my nose, then put it in his own mouth. Afterward, he seriously commented, "Very sweet."
My face instantly flushed red.
The two of us worked together, one spreading cream and the other arranging fruit, the atmosphere harmonious and warm.
"What did you usually do on your birthdays before?" I asked casually while carefully piping decorations.
"Work, or have dinner with family." His answer was brief and concise, just like his usual style.
I could imagine those so-called birthday dinners were probably just another round of business socializing, with no surprises and no anticipation.
"What about you?" he asked back.
"Me," my hands paused, and I said softly, "when I was with the White family, Marlowe would 'kindly' prepare birthday parties for me, inviting many people I didn't know, making me smile at everyone like a puppet. Later... later I just stopped celebrating."
Those chains in the name of love hurt far more than indifference.
Benjamin fell silent. He put down the fruit in his hand and wrapped his arms around me from behind, holding my hand that was holding the piping bag.
His chest was warm and solid, his chin resting gently in the crook of my shoulder, his warm breath brushing past my ear.