Auctioning Her Virgin Husband

Michael's POV

"Rupert just got back from vacation. Rachel waited forever for that kiss, and yet Michael shamelessly touched her with his hand. He deserves to be taught a lesson."

Rachel let out a disdainful laugh.

"A lesson? Please. No one's touched Michael in five years. He's probably dying for some rich woman to buy his first night. You have no idea how desperate he is. It's like he can't live without women!"

The room instantly erupted with mocking laughter loud enough to shake the ceiling.

"Rupert is allergic to Michael's scent. Just smelling him makes him nauseous. That's why Rachel disinfects herself every time she comes into contact with Michael. Michael probably really thinks there's something dirty about him by now. Hahaha!"

"This auction's perfect. It finally gives him a chance to be a real man. No more being a virgin. He'll probably be thrilled!"

Amid the endless ridicule, my face suddenly turned cold. It felt as though a giant hand had seized my heart, squeezing until my vision darkened in waves.

Every time Rachel touched me, she recoiled as if she'd encountered something horrifying.

For a long time, I genuinely believed I carried some kind of bacteria. Every night, I soaked myself in disinfectant baths.

Over time, every inch of my skin became severely damaged. Even the slightest breeze would trigger irritation, leaving angry red rashes across my body.

Rachel even had the master bedroom's king-sized bed replaced with two separate beds, terrified that she might somehow catch my "germs."

After countless emotional confrontations, she finally threw a medical report at me.

"I have severe mysophobia. Don't touch a single hair on my body ever again."

So all of this—everything—had only been because of Rupert. Because of his casual remarks: "disgusting," "allergic."

Such a ridiculous reason.

Our families had been close for generations, and we were engaged as children.

As we grew older, the engagement gradually faded from everyone's attention. Both families believed we should be free to fall in love on our own.

But Rachel's grandmother, Grandma Marilyn, had been in poor health for years and held very traditional beliefs. She insisted we marry as promised.

Even though she knew Rachel loved Rupert, and that I was dating someone else at the time, she stubbornly pushed the marriage forward. Neither of us had any way to refuse.

While I hesitated, Grandma Marilyn left me one final way out.

"I truly hope the two of you can stay together until the end. But if, one day, Rachel betrays you, I'll personally bring the signed divorce agreement to you and grant you freedom."

And yet, on our wedding night, Rachel locked me outside the bedroom.

At the time, I thought she simply needed time to accept me, so I gave her all the patience I could. I tolerated her so-called "germophobia."

But that wait lasted five full years.

I endured five years of a sexless marriage, humbling myself for her in every possible way, only to learn the truth in the cruelest way imaginable…

I dialed Grandma Marilyn's number and spoke numbly into the phone.

"In two days, at the downtown auction, there'll be enough proof that Rachel betrayed me. Please let me go, Grandma Marilyn."

…

I returned home very late that night.

For once, Rachel didn't greet me with cold indifference.

Instead, there was an unusual trace of desire in her eyes.