But when the bidding started, it went wild. The price climbed higher and higher. Brandon bid a few times, but then an anonymous phone bidder jumped in, driving the price to an astronomical figure.
“Going once, going twice… sold to the bidder on the phone!”
I felt a pang of disappointment, though I tried to hide it. “It’s okay,” I murmured. “It was too much anyway.”
Brandon suddenly stood up. He walked to the stage, grabbing the microphone. The room went silent.
“I may have lost the necklace,” he announced, his voice booming with charisma, “but I won’t let my wife go home empty-handed. I’m buying every remaining piece in this lot for her. Because nothing is too good for Maureen.”
The crowd gasped. Applause erupted. Women looked at me with envy, men with respect.
“You are so lucky,” a woman next to me whispered. “He adores you.”
I smiled, waving at the crowd.
That night, the house was quiet again. Or so I thought.
I was heading to the kitchen for water from a sealed bottle I kept hidden—when I heard voices from the study.
“You didn’t bring me,” Denise’s voice hissed, sharp and petulant. “I had to watch the livestream like a peasant. I want jewelry too, Brandon! And what was that show? ‘Nothing is too good for Maureen’? Please.”
I crept closer, pressing my ear to the wood.
“Come on, you’ve become quite the doting husband,” she sneered. “I’m jealous. Everyone is speaking of it online. ‘Husband of the year.’”
“Calm down, baby,” Brandon’s voice was soothing, low. “It’s all part of the act. You know that. I have to keep her happy. I have to keep her unsuspecting.”
“Well, I’m not happy,” she snapped.
“I have something for you,” he said.
There was a rustle of fabric, the snap of a velvet box opening.
“Oh my God,” Denise gasped. “The sapphire necklace! You… you were the anonymous bidder?”
“Of course,” Brandon chuckled. “She wanted it, but I bought it for you. It looks better on you anyway. Blue brings out your eyes.”
My stomach churned. He had outbid himself, humiliated me in secret, just to give my desire to his mistress.
“Oh, Brandon!” The sound of kissing followed. “Do you love me?”
“Yes. You know I do.”
“Then why not divorce her?” Denise whined. “Please. Let’s get married. I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of being the other woman.”