Helping Out My Wife’s Boyfriends

Anson Lyndhurst paused and sighed.

"When I found out she was cheating, I was bitter too. I made a scene and asked for a divorce. She even spent a whole week on her knees by my hospital bed, begging me to take her back.

"And what happened? She never stopped taking lovers. You aren't the first, and Rory Castellan won't be the last. Give it up. Use this chance to walk away while you can still get a generous settlement out of it."

Gabriel Sutcliffe instinctively objected. "I'm not in it for the money. My feelings for Eleanor are real."

However, when he met Anson's calm, knowing gaze, he fell silent in guilt and looked away.

A moment later, he gritted his teeth. "I want $50 million and an apartment in Ambermoor."

Anson smiled and handed him a nondisclosure agreement.

Gabriel signed it with a mocking expression.

"I heard you asked for $50 million too before you agreed not to divorce her, Anson. Eleanor's lovers have come and gone all these years, but you, the son of a gambling addict and a bar hostess, have held on to your place as her husband thanks to her favoritism. You must be pretty pleased with yourself, huh?"

Anson put the agreement away and lowered his eyes to hide his self-mockery. His voice was quiet.

"I'm nothing special to Eleanor. I just got here first."

After leaving the hospital, he went straight back to the Vandermeer mansion.

He had barely taken off his shoes when someone pressed against his back in a heated embrace.

He turned around and looked down.

Eleanor Vandermeer carried herself with aristocratic poise, and she had the sated, languid look of a woman fresh from a lover's bed. She rested a slender hand on his waist and spoke with a careless, apologetic note.

"Gabriel was completely out of line. I'm sorry he put you through all that trouble. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Anson said nothing.

Eleanor's idea of making it up to him never amounted to more than a few pricey luxury items.

All of Saltmere believed he stayed with Eleanor for her money.

Eleanor also believed he could forgive her betrayal with enough money. Over the years, she had grown increasingly brazen about her affairs and the lovers she kept, no longer bothering to hide any of it.

"Taking care of my wife's problems is part of my job as the Vandermeer husband. There's nothing to make up for."

He calmly pushed her hand away and held out a stack of documents.

"Gabriel wants the Ambermoor apartment you two used to share. The contract's already drawn up. Just sign it."

Eleanor did not even glance at it before picking up a pen and signing her name with a flourish.

She tossed the pen aside, caught Anson's wrist in the same motion, and pulled him closer.

"Don't you want to know how I'm going to make it up to you?"

Before Anson could answer, she rose onto her toes, a barely perceptible hint of anticipation in her voice.

"We've been married for seven years. It's time we had a child. Anson, let's have an heir."

For a moment, Anson was stunned. Having an heir meant Eleanor was promising to share everything she owned with him.

However, if he had never discovered her affair back then, their first child would already be five years old.

His gaze swept pointedly over the obvious hickey on her neck, and he stepped back, his tone stiff.

"It's late. Go take a shower and get some rest. There's no rush to have a baby."

Eleanor followed his gaze, noticed the mark on herself, and complained with a helpless sigh, "Rory is so much like you were back then. He came from nothing, but he's stubborn and possessive, and he's always leaving marks on me. I'll talk to him later and tell him to tone it down."

She stroked Anson's cheek, her laugh carrying a coaxing note.

"You're still the best husband anyone could ask for, so mature, steady and gracious. It's been ages since I've seen you jealous over me. I'll go wash off that other man's scent right now, okay?"

With that, she turned and headed upstairs.

Anson sighed softly. "It's fine. I don't mind."

Eleanor was already upstairs, and there was no telling whether she had heard him.

Anson truly did not mind.

Today was the last time he would clean up the mess from one of Eleanor's affairs, and the last time he would play her respectable husband.

When Eleanor cheated a second time, whatever feelings he still had for her died completely. He had demanded $50 million to stay in the marriage, not out of greed, but to secure life-extending medical treatment overseas for his gravely ill grandmother.

However, a few days ago, his grandmother had passed away, and with her went his last reason for staying by Eleanor's side.

Anson looked down at the documents Eleanor had just signed, and a relieved smile tugged at his lips.

Hidden at the bottom of that stack was a divorce agreement.