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MidReal Story
The Virgin Billionaire's Older Lover
Scenario:老夫少妻，二人差二十五年，男方常常腰痛復發
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Elderly Man
He is a retired teacher in his late sixties. He is reflective,persistent,and somewhat humorous. He married his wife,Elizabeth,after twenty years of relationship. They have two children together. He struggles with back pain,which often forces him to take painkillers. Despite his age and health issues,he remains devoted to his wife and enjoys spending time with her,including going on holiday and engaging in sexual activities.
Back Pain
He is the manifestation of the elderly man's physical discomfort. He is persistent,nagging,and relentless. He often visits the elderly man,causing him distress and forcing him to take painkillers to manage his symptoms. Back Pain prevents the elderly man from engaging in activities he enjoys but remains an unwelcome companion that the elderly man would like to see less often.
Elizabeth
She is the younger wife of the elderly man,in her late forties. She is caring,youthful,and supportive. Her age difference with her husband is significant,but they have a loving relationship. She takes care of her husband by encouraging him to take medication for his back pain. They go on holiday together and engage in romantic activities. Her presence brings joy and companionship to her husband's life.
It was said that one man's meat is another man's poison.
This saying is very true, especially in marriage.
While some men are comfortable with marrying women who are older than them, some are not.
While some are comfortable with marrying a woman who is ten times younger than them, some are not.
While some are comfortable with staying with a woman for some time without wedging her, some are not.
In my own case, I fell in love with a woman twenty-five years younger than me and got married to her after staying with her for twenty years.
We have two children together and we have been living happily for some years now.
But it's not all rosy with us as we have our own share of problems.
One of the problems I'm facing in my marriage is back pain.
It comes and goes as it likes.
Sometimes, it stays away for a long time and then comes back again, giving me a lot of pain.
When it comes, I won't be able to do anything on my own.
I would need the help of my wife to do almost everything and that really embarrasses me because I see it as reducing my dignity.
I would need her help to dress, to take my bath, and even to use the loo.
Standing before the wardrobe, I reach for my favorite blue shirt, determined to maintain some independence.
My fingers grasp the soft cotton, and as I lift my arm to slide it off the hanger, a familiar twinge shoots through my lower back.
I freeze mid-motion, shirt dangling.
The pain radiates outward, intensifying with each breath.
I try shifting my weight, hoping to find a more comfortable position, but this only makes it worse.
My hand trembles as I lower the shirt back onto the rack.
Elizabeth's footsteps approach from the hallway.
"Do you need help, darling?" she asks gently, her voice a soothing balm to my frustration.
"I can manage," I reply, though the strain in my voice betrays me.
"Love, it's okay to let me in; we promised to face everything together, remember?"
After Elizabeth helps me dress, I sit at our kitchen table, cradling a steaming mug of chamomile tea she prepared for me.
The morning sunlight pours through the window, casting a warm glow over the room.
Elizabeth stands by the windowsill, carefully watering the potted herbs she tends to with love.
The soft gurgle of the water and her gentle movements create a sense of tranquility that contrasts with the throbbing in my back.
As she turns to face me, her eyes filled with concern, I can't help but notice how much she reminds me of our countryside walks together.
Those carefree days when the world seemed less complicated, and our love was in its early bloom.
Watching her now, an idea begins to form in my mind.
I straighten up slightly, wincing as my back protests, but I push past the discomfort.
"Elizabeth," I say, my voice filled with determination, "this weekend, let's drive out to the countryside."
She pauses mid-watering, her brows furrowing slightly.
"But love, are you sure? With your back like this?"
I nod vigorously, ignoring the twinge that shoots down my spine.
"Yes, yes. It might be just what I need. A change of scenery. Fresh air. Maybe it'll even help with my back."
Elizabeth sets the watering can down and walks over to me, her expression softening.
"If you think it'll help, then let's do it," she says, a hint of excitement in her voice.
"But promise me you'll let me handle the driving this time, alright?"
After dinner, I settle into our worn leather sofa, grimacing as another wave of pain shoots through my lower back.
Elizabeth notices my discomfort and sits beside me, her hand gently rubbing my shoulder.
"Maybe a massage would help," she suggests softly.
I hesitate, not wanting to burden her with my aches, but she's already getting up and heading towards the bathroom.
She returns with a bottle of lavender oil, its familiar scent filling the room.
Without a word, she positions herself behind me on the sofa, her warm hands pressing firmly against my tense muscles.
She works methodically from my shoulders down to the small of my back, her fingers kneading out the knots with practiced ease.
The tension slowly begins to release under her touch, and despite my initial reluctance, I find myself relaxing into her care.
"Elizabeth," I murmur, breaking the comfortable silence, "there's something I've been meaning to tell you."
Her hands pause for a moment, then continue their soothing rhythm.
"What is it, love?" she asks softly, her voice filled with gentle curiosity.
Through the haze of diminishing pain, I shift carefully on the sofa to face her.
Her hands pause on my shoulders, still warm from the massage oil.
The living room lamp casts a soft glow across her features, highlighting the slight flush in her cheeks from the effort of working my tired muscles.
My back twinges as I move, but for once I barely notice it.
Instead, I focus on how her presence has been my constant comfort through years of physical struggles.
The lavender scent lingers between us as I gather my thoughts.
I shift my weight on the sofa, ignoring the twinge in my lower back as I move closer to her.
Her hands rest in her lap now, still glistening with traces of the lavender oil.
The table lamp casts a warm glow across her face, accentuating the slight crow's feet around her eyes—testaments to our years together and the laughter we've shared.
My throat tightens as I study her familiar features.
She waits patiently, her head tilted slightly, while I gather my thoughts.
The ticking of our old wall clock punctuates the silence.
My hand finds hers, our fingers intertwining naturally.
"Elizabeth, I've been offered a job in the city," I finally say, my voice barely above a whisper.
Her eyes widen, surprise mingling with uncertainty.
"In the city? But what about our life here?" she asks, her voice a mix of concern and curiosity.
