You Loved Me, But I Love Not

Ophelia Hart had been married to Rowan Cabell for five years.

He had been cheating on her for four and a half of those years.

His list of mistresses could probably stretch all the way from Merion to Freeka, and the condoms he had gone through could practically wrap around the entire globe.

However, Ophelia never made a scene.

It was all because of the first rule in the Hart family’s code for women—'A husband’s infidelity is never an excuse for anger or confrontation. Never make a scene. Never raise your voice. His comfort must always come first. Violate this rule, and you will pay the price yourself.’

Ophelia had once paid that price for six months. Those six months were more than enough to make the lesson unforgettable.

Hence, when Rowan wrapped his arms around Lydia Beaumont and passionately kissed her in front of everyone, then loudly announced that he was going to marry her, Ophelia merely reached into her bag.

She pulled out a pack of strawberry chewing gum, offered it to them with both hands, and said sweetly, “Kissing feels better when you’re chewing gum.”

Everyone whistled and started hooting.

“Nice, Rowan. You really trained Ophelia well. She’s like a completely different person now.”

Rowan’s gaze settled on Ophelia. After a few seconds, he took the candy, glanced at it, then casually tossed it aside.

“Quit the act. You really think you can learn your lesson that easily? Tell me, what are you trying to pull this time?”

Ophelia lowered her eyes to the candy lying on the floor and replied in a soft tone, “I’d like to go back to the old residence.”

Rowan did not ask why she wanted to go back. He also did not ask why, despite hating that place more than anything, she was suddenly asking for permission to go back. He did not even ask whether the wounds on her face had healed.

He simply waved a hand and agreed, not bothering to spare her another glance.

Five years of marriage, and this was all it amounted to.

The moment Ophelia arrived at the old residence, she dropped to her knees with a thud and pressed her forehead to the floor.

“Grandma, I don't want to sign the marriage agreement for our sixth year. There are only three days left until our one-year marital agreement comes up for renewal. Three days from now, I’ll leave and never come back. Please let me go.”

Back then, the Cabell family had never been satisfied with her as their daughter-in-law. They forced her into a one-year marriage contract that had to be renewed every year behind Rowan’s back.

The first clause of that contract was that if Rowan cheated on her and had another woman, it would be deemed proof that Ophelia had failed in her duty as a wife.

She would be punished with the Cabell family’s cane, stripped of her right to ask for a divorce, and the Cabell family would have sole authority over how the matter was handled.

When Ophelia first read that clause, she felt uncomfortable, but more than anything, she was thrilled. Without that contract, she never would have been allowed to marry Rowan. She had believed that he would love her forever and that he would never cheat.

Reality had shattered that beautiful fantasy without mercy. That was when Ophelia realized how naive and how foolish she had been.

“You were lucky enough to marry into the Cabell family. Rowan has no intention of divorcing you, so who do you think you are to come asking me for a divorce?”

Ophelia’s gaze trembled. She bowed her head and knocked it against the floor again.

“Please let me go.”

Old Madam Cabell fell silent. After a long moment, she heaved a sigh.

“Fine. You two have clearly fallen out of love. Five years of marriage, and you still couldn’t give me a grandson. Besides, the Cabell family has recently found someone much better suited to Rowan. If you want a divorce, then so be it.”

A bitter smile touched Ophelia’s lips. Her marriage to Rowan was not even over yet, and the Cabell family had already found him another woman.

“You’re leaving in three days. Do you need Rowan to drive you?” Elora Cabell subtly changed the subject.

Ophelia gave a self-deprecating laugh.

“No, thank you. There’s no need to tell Rowan about this. He’ll be throwing a wedding party for Lydia on the day I leave. I don’t want to ruin his fun.”

Something complicated flickered through Elora’s eyes.

“You used to be the one who loved him the most. How did you end up like this?”

Ophelia’s eyes trembled. Her face went pale, but she forced a smile. “I don't dare to be that person anymore.”

Five years ago, when Ophelia and Rowan had first married, they had been so deeply in love that everyone around them envied their marriage.

Whenever she craved something sweet, Rowan would gladly wait in line to buy her favorite dessert. Whenever her period left her curled up in pain, he would warm his hands over and over before gently rubbing her stomach until the pain eased.

When he learned how much she loved romance, he showered her with little surprises every single day.

Everyone said she had married the right man and that Rowan was hopelessly in love with her.

Yet happiness never lasted. It was like fireworks, vanishing in the blink of an eye. Barely six months into their marriage, Rowan could no longer resist the temptations outside their marriage, and he cheated.

The punishment written into the marriage contract came right on schedule. However, Ophelia refused to accept it.

She could not believe it, and she broke down. She slapped the mistress, pulled her hair, and made such a scene that the entire city knew about it.

The Hart family was furious. When they sent people to punish her, Rowan’s cold voice rang out before the iron rod could fall.

“You’re treating my wife like this. Do you think I’m just going to stand by and watch?”

After that, no matter how big a scene she caused or how brutally she went after the women who came between them, the Hart family, famous for its strict family rules, never interfered.

Ophelia kept fighting, and Rowan kept protecting her.

That was, until Lydia appeared. Everything spiraled out of control.

As usual, Ophelia caught Rowan with another woman. This time, it was Lydia. One second, Ophelia was warning her to stay away from Rowan. The next, an iron rod from the Hart family came crashing down across her back.

The pain was so intense that she screamed. Thirty-eight blows, and the number was deliberately chosen as a cruel play on the insult for a woman who was obsessed with fighting over a man.

Her wounds had barely begun to heal when Lydia viciously cursed her, wishing her dead. Ophelia snapped and shoved her. That very night, the Hart family threw her from the third floor.

Once, twice, the third, and it kept happening. Little by little, Ophelia began to lose hope.

When Lydia provoked her for the 99th time, she strangled the dog Rowan had given Ophelia to death right in front of her. Covered in wounds, Ophelia dragged herself to the bar where Rowan was drinking. She cried and begged him to help her.

Reeking of alcohol with a cigarette hanging from his lips, Rowan laughed carelessly and said he would deal with Lydia.

The next moment, he had Ophelia thrown into the Hart family ancestral hall.

“You’re only allowed to come out when you’ve learned your lesson.”

Ophelia’s mind went blank, and her ears rang.

Finally, she understood why the Hart family, who had been ignoring her for years, would suddenly appear whenever she confronted Lydia, and why they were never afraid whenever she invoked Rowan’s name while being punished.

It was all because of him.

Rowan wanted to protect Lydia, but he did not want to get his own hands dirty. So he had simply told the Hart family to do it for him.

Six months of torment had finally taught Ophelia her lesson. She stopped questioning Rowan, stopped fighting with him, and stopped going after the women he cheated on her with. She had learned to be obedient.

…

After Ophelia left the old residence, she took a cab home.

The moment she pushed open the door, she was greeted by a scene of chaos. She turned her head away, slowly curling her palm into a fist.

“What? Are you jealous again?”

Rowan's tone was impossible to read, yet the sarcasm was unmistakable.

He let out a cold laugh. He was waiting for what usually came next, for her to burst into tears and beg him to stop, or for her to slap Lydia across the face and start screaming.

Ophelia would behave like a crazy woman. That was what Rowan thought of her.

This time, Ophelia did neither. She lowered her head and said in a low voice, “No, I was just worried you two might get cold.”

The wounds on her body, along with six months of suffering in darkness, kept reminding her of the price she had paid for jealousy.

How could she dare to be jealous?

Rowan snorted. “Good. As long as you’re not jealous. Otherwise, I’d have to make another trip to the Hart family. What a hassle. Now, get lost. Seeing you just ruins my mood.”

Ophelia staggered to her feet. She limped upstairs, one painful step at a time.

Rowan did not know it yet, but in three days, he would not have to worry about her being a hassle anymore. She was leaving.