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Benched My Husband During the World Cup Finals Novel Cover

Benched My Husband During the World Cup Finals

During the World Cup finals, a devoted wife arrives at her husband Tristan’s office only to find him sharing the game with his new assistant, Jodie. Tristan admits he finds his wife's care stifling, preferring the company of a younger woman who mirrors her past spirit. After seeing him give Jodie a sentimental jersey, the protagonist realizes her husband no longer values their history. She stands in the shadows, deciding to bench the man who already replaced her before the game even began.
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Chapter 4

When Tristan returned home, I placed the scorebook on the table with the picture of the contract next to it. He unclasped his cufflinks and glanced at the table. "Did you go through the company's documents again?"

I looked up at him. "Didn't you promise me the South City Sports Center as a memorial?"

Three years ago, I quit my job as a sports columnist to stay by his side and entertain clients on behalf of the Hayes family. He promised me a small World Cup-themed pavilion if the company won the South City project, where I could display our jerseys, ticket stubs, and the old ankle brace.

Tristan placed his cufflinks in the tray and replied nonchalantly, "The commercial value of the project has changed. It's better suited to be the venue for Jodie's Youth Soccer Fan Club.

I questioned him, "Why didn't you tell me about it?"

He looked at me. "Would you have agreed if I did?"

I smiled. "So you took it away from me first and just planned to convince me to be okay with it?"

Tristan did not deny it. That was when his phone rang, and Jodie's voice could be heard on the other end. "Mr. Hayes, I'm feeling a little nervous about the signing ceremony tomorrow. Will Mrs. Hayes be unhappy about it?"

He looked at me and switched to speakerphone. "She'll understand."

Jodie was hesitant. "But there's a note missing on the last page of the scorebook. What if the media asks about it?"

Tristan frowned. "I'll handle it."

After he hung up, Tristant took the scorebook from the table. "Be there tomorrow. It'll look better with Mrs. Hayes present."

I pressed down on the other hand of the scorebook. "I'm not going."

The look in Tristan's eyes darkened. "Stop being stubborn about this, Dahlia."

I looked him right in the eyes. "I'm asking you one last time. Did you plan to let her have that exhibition hall from the very start?"

Tristan paused for half a second, but that short moment reminded me of the date on the top right corner of the contract, which was two months ago. It was also the time when Jodie started working at the company. I remembered how Tristan hugged me at the kitchen door, telling me about how the South City project could make up for our delayed honeymoon.

He pulled the scorebook from under my hand, and the pages in the scorebook cut my palm. "It's a business decision. It shouldn't be decided with emotions."

I lowered my eyes to look at the red scratch on my palm. "What about me? Am I a business decision too?"

Tristan got annoyed. "You're my wife. Stop comparing yourself with Jodie."

That was when I stopped asking any more questions.

The next day, I wore a plain dress to the signing ceremony. Tina's expression relaxed when she saw me walking into the lounge. "That's more like it. You shouldn't harbor any anger as husband and wife. When Tristan extends you courtesy, you should just take it."

That was when Jodie pushed the door open to enter in a blue and white dress. She carefully passed me a gift box. "Mr. Hayes told me to give you this, Mrs. Hayes. He wants you to open it for him when you get on stage."

I opened the box to see a newly made silver brooch inside. It was cushioned with a piece of cloth cut from my old ankle brace, its side pressed down into the shape of a soccer ball. Jodie said, "Mr. Hayes says that an old item like this should transform to accompany him down to the soccer field."

My fingers froze at the side of the box. That agreement was just not about giving her the exhibition hall. He had given her the last of the personal items we shared by tearing the brace apart and turning it into an accessory to make her shine on stage.

Tristan walked into the lounge, and when he saw me standing still, he reached out to close the box in my hands. "Stop giving us that look. I got someone to preserve it before I had it cut. This way, it would last longer."

I looked up at him. "You agreed to have it cut to pieces?"

He looked at his watch. "Jodie said that it would look better as an accessory. Why not change it into an accessory I can keep on me rather than letting it collect dust in the drawers? Isn't this what you always wanted, Dahlia?"

The signing ceremony began shortly, and when the host announced Jodie's name, the applause was thunderous. Tristan led her up to the middle of the stage where the spotlight shone on the brooch. He picked up the microphone and said with ease, "Miss Jodie Lenford will be the youth ambassador for the themed pavilion at the South City Sports Center, while this brooch represents a very important time in my youth."

Jodie became teary-eyed as she looked in my direction. Tristan turned to look at me as well, as if reminding me not to embarrass him. He continued, "Today, I'd like to invite my wife to put this on Jodie to symbolize the handing over of a passion of the past into more suitable hands."

A staff member approached me with the brooch, and I took it while my fingers gently caressed the cut on the cloth. As everyone was waiting to see me take in the humiliation and pin the brooch onto my husband's little lover with my own hands, the doors to the venue suddenly burst open.

The representative of the initial investor in the South City project strode in with a document in his hand and announced coldly, "Mrs. Hayes, the request you put in yesterday to retract all creative rights of the South City project has been legally approved."

Tristan immediately turned to look at me in shock. I smiled as I looked into his astonished eyes, and I let go of the brooch. There was a hard clank as the brooch, which was covered with the flesh and blood of my youth, smashed to the ground.

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