Mason
A wave of anger surged through me. Everyone’s eyes fell on me. “Now what did she n?” I asked under my breath. This was supposed to be a peaceful night with Lydia. I should have known from when Mom walked in with Julia that there was going to be nothing peaceful about it.
“You should go,” Lydia said beside me. “But I can’t allow her to offer that ne as a donation, it’s yours,” I
said
“Doesn’t matter. For now, you should be up there like she requested.” I inhaled a scent of breath and stood pushing the chair backwards. My jaw ticked as I walked, trying to keep my anger hidden as I got closer to
mom.
Mom kept a smile on, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Here’s Mason, my son.” She said when I stood beside her on the podium, her voice thick with pride. She spread her hand apart, inviting me for a hug. I grind my teeth together as she crashed into
my chest.
The hugsted for a few seconds before I pulled away. She hasn’t earned my forgiveness yet, and unlike her, I can’t go on pretending we were cool even in public.
“Everyone’s interested in the special meaning behind the ne, do you mind sharing?” She asked,
stretching over the microphone. “Do you really want me to talk about Lydia?” I asked in a low voice. She knew who the ne belonged to.
“I don’t mind, she is in the past.” She said with certainty, “Here, take the microphone.” I took the microphone and turned to the crowd, who cheered.
“Who did you give the ne to, and what motivated you to give it for donation?” The auctioneer asked. I had almost forgotten he was here. The crowd was silent, everyone anticipated my reply.
My eyes skimmed through the crowd and settled on Lydia. “It was a gift to the woman I love,” I stated, my voice soft.
“The woman must be so lucky.” The auctioneer said. I ignored his remark and continued, “She is the only woman I have ever loved, hence, this ne means a lot to her, to us.” My breath caught in my throat as a wave of nostalgia hit me.
I could vividly remember giving this ne to Lydia and the smile that brightened her face that night.
“Then, why are you giving it off for donation?” The auctioneer asked.
I scrunched up my face and then raised a brow, “When did I do that? I don’t know what this is all about, but I never gave this ne up for sale or donation. I never agreed to it.” My voice was loud and clear. Mom tensed beside me, her eyes widening in shock.
“Mason, what are you saying?” She asked in a stiff voice. The auctioneer squinted, then looked between me and Mom. He let out a shakyugh, trying to dispel the thick air that surrounded us. “I think Mr. Woods is
mistaken.” He said.
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I faced him, “No, I am not.” I enunciated each word and then turned to face the crowd, outrightly ignoring Mom’s signal to stop. She invited me up here, which I’m quite sure she must be regretting already.
“I didn’t know about the donation till right this moment, and I don’t give approval.” A flurry of whispers swept through the hall, as the audience expressed their surprise but thrill at the unfolding event.
“What do you mean, Mr Woods?” The auctioneer asked.
“It means this ne won’t be up for auction,” I said, moving my gaze to Mom. She shifted from one foot to another, “If you want to make a donation, I have nothing against that, but use your ne.” She squirmed under my harsh gaze, her cheeks turning into a dark shade of pink.
“Mason, why are you-” she began, but was cut short by the auctioneer. “Mr. Woods, is there any way you’d be able to give your consent, as you can see, the auction for the ne is about to begin, it’s toote to stop it.” He seemed fixed on auctioning the ne.
I was silent for a while. It wasn’t my decision to make. Before our marriage, it was my duty to provide the gift, and after our divorce, it was my duty to keep all her things safe. It is then left for Lydia <i>to </i>decide if she would ept the gift or reject it.
“There is.” The auctioneer’s face softened, “If the rightful owner of the ne agrees to it, then I’ll give my consent.” The auctioneer stepped forward, his face rigid. “That’s not possible, it will be hard to get her consent right now.”
Although mom didn’t expressly say Lydia was my past, she had implied it from the way she phrased her sentence, calling Lydia my then–love. Naturally, everyone would think Lydia wasn’t part of my life anymore.
“Why?” I asked, and he pressed his lips into a thin line. “If you are worried about how to contact her, it won’t be an issue.”
“That’s part of the issue, but we don’t even know who this woman is.” He scratched his neck. One side of my lips pulled to the side.
“The woman is my ex–wife. Lydia.” There was a gasp in the hall. Everyone knew we were divorced, although no one knew the details. The reason for our divorce had been kept tightly under wraps. Save for those close to us, only a handful of people knew, and they hadn’t said a word about it.
“Oh… I… I did…n’t know,” he stuttered. Then paused, I could tell he was putting everything together, “This will make it more difficult.” He said, but his eyes held other questions, the same question I knew would be brewing in everyone’s mind. ‘Why would I keep a ne of my ex–wife?‘
“It won’t. In fact, she is right here in this hall.” Mom’s eyes widened; she obviously didn’t expect me to introduce Lydia as my ex–wife in public. She shook her head, mouthing, “Don’t, don’t, don’t.” But it was toote, it had been decided already.
I looked over to Lydia. I didn’t talk this through with her; if she doesn’t want me to do this, then I won’t. Much to my delight, she had a small smile ying on her lips, proof that she didn’t mind. It was high time the public knew.
I extended one hand towards her direction, pointing at her, ignoring the mummering in the hall. The auctioneer traced my hand, and his jaw dropped. “Miss Alyssa Brooks, also known as Lydia.” There, I said it, what I wanted to say for a long time. It felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest, reced with something
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lighter because at that moment, a cocktail of emotions rushed through me.
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“You mean her?” The auctioneer asked in disbelief. I nodded. The woman everyone admired and held in high esteem was my partner. “She <b>is </b>my ex–wife and my date for tonight.”
The mummering increased. I didn’t care; they were wee to share their thoughts and create their theories. But we had to get back to the matter at hand. I was beginning to get tired. This night was supposed to be drama–free.
“If she agrees to the donation, then I’ll give my consent too, but if she doesn’t, then I’m sorry, no donations will be happening,” I repeated, dragging thest part for emphasis. Lydia made the call, not me. I left the ball in her court.
She became the center of attention immediately.
“Will miss Alyssa Brooks, please step on the podium,” The auctioneer said. Mom had her palm fist, behind her sharp look was a look of helplessness. I bet when she nned this out, she never thought it would go this way.
Lydia was soon on the podium, standing by my side. She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Miss Brooks, what do you say? Will you give up your ne for donation to children in need just as Mrs Woods over here wishes?<b>” </b>The auctioneer asked.
Lydia smiled. I wrapped my hand around hers, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” I told her.
She let out a breath and straightened, “No. I won’t be giving out my ne for donation.” She stated firmly. The hall erupted, Mom smiled, and Lydia’s statement got her on the wrong side of the audience.
Lydia didn’t
go further to exin, she stood still until they quieted down, “instead, I’ll be making a donation myself. This ne means a lot, it’s a symbol of love.”
This seemed to pacify the people. The thing about humans is that they are never fully on one side. They can be easily swayed. The same people who expressed their dissatisfaction over her earlier statement jammed their hands together for her.
After the apuse died, Lydia turned to mom, “I know you don’t approve of me, but using my ne as a donation without my knowledge or approval doesn’t sit well with me and has forced me to question your motive. Why would you do that?”
AD
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