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. Whenever Rowan brought another woman to bed, she would quietly prepare a cup of warm water and a box of his favourite lemon-flavored condoms. When they were done, she would calmly arrange for the maid to clean the room. 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 burst into laughter and started cheering. They thought she had finally learned her lesson. However, they had it all wrong, because she was about to leave… Chapter 1 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. Chapter 2 When she returned upstairs, Ophelia began packing her things. After five years, she was stunned to realize how little in this enormous mansion actually belonged to her. Most of what filled the house was not hers at all. They were things she had bought for Rowan—his favorite clothes, the watches he liked, the elaborate handcrafted ornaments he used to admire. She had once used those gifts to please him, to keep him happy, and to keep him from cheating. Now, she went through them one by one and threw every last thing into the trash. By the time she finished, the sweet, coquettish voice drifting up from downstairs had gradually faded. It was replaced by a woman’s sobs and the heavy footsteps of several people. The next second, her bedroom door was kicked open. Ophelia’s pupils contracted. It was the Hart family! Before she could even ask why they were here, a vicious slap came whistling through the air. The blow left her dizzy. She crashed to the floor, only to be grabbed and dragged down the stairs. Downstairs, Rowan was still quietly soothing Lydia. When he saw Ophelia being dragged down the stairs like a dead dog, his hand paused for a moment. The Hart family butler’s face was dark with fury. His voice thundered through the room. “I thought six months of punishment had finally taught you to obey. But I never expected you’d still dare to break the rules! Ophelia, do you really think the Hart family’s rules are beneath your notice?!” In his hand was a wooden ruler studded with nails. The moment Ophelia saw it, every punishment she had endured came rushing back. The wounds across her back seemed to ache all over again. Fear flooded her. She immediately dropped to her knees, forcing herself to stay calm. However, the tremor in her voice betrayed her. “Mr. Hart, I didn’t. Ever since I left the ancestral hall, I haven’t broken a single Hart family rule…” Before she could finish, Rowan cut her off. He flicked the ash from his cigarette, his expression shifting between light and shadow. “See for yourself. Is there anything you’d like to say?” He tossed a phone onto the floor in front of her. A trending headline was displayed across the screen. It was a photo of Rowan and Lydia kissing passionately in the living room just moments ago. Rowan’s face had been blurred, but not Lydia’s. “There were only three of us in this house. If you didn't post it, then who did? A ghost?” Rowan said with a faint, mocking smile. Ophelia looked at the provocation in Lydia’s eyes. She understood immediately. Her fingertips curled into her palms until they turned white. She knew that no matter what she said now, Rowan would not believe her. Even so, she still wanted to defend herself one last time. “I know you won’t believe me, but I didn’t do this. I didn’t post it.” She was stubborn as ever, just like before, and it disgusted him. After all this time, she still had not learned a thing. “Do you take me for an idiot? Even your excuse is pathetic.” Rowan rubbed his temples, clearly losing patience. “I gave you a chance to explain, and you wasted it. If that’s how you want to play this, then there’s nothing left to discuss.” Then he impatiently tapped his fingers against the table. The meaning was obvious. The Hart family's steward understood immediately. His eyes turned cold. The ruler came crashing down. “Family rule number one, a wife must always put her husband’s comfort first. Ophelia has violated the rule. She must be punished!” The nails tore into Ophelia’s flesh. A sharp, agonizing pain ripped through her, forcing a muffled groan from her lips. “Family rule number 38, a wife must never be jealous or talk back. Ophelia has violated the rule. She must be punished!” Another blow came, and Ophelia broke into a cold sweat from the pain. Her entire body trembled as blood quickly soaked her back. “Family rule number 375…” “Family rule number 1,245…” “Family rule number 3,535…” One blow came after another. Ophelia lost count of how many times the ruler came down. Her face had gone deathly pale. Her vision blurred until everything around her became a haze of overlapping shadows. Five years ago, Rowan looked at her with that warm smile. He held her beneath the pouring rain, swearing to the heavens that he would love only Ophelia for the rest of his life. Those memories flashed through her mind one after another. Just before her consciousness finally slipped away, one image became painfully clear. Rowan was teasing Lydia in his arms while looking down at Ophelia with cold indifference as she was beaten. This was her husband, the man she had loved with all her heart for five years… Chapter 3 Ophelia was taken back to the Hart residence to be punished because she had broken the rules again. Whenever she passed out from the pain, they splashed cold water over her to wake her. Then they continued. She kept falling into a daze, over and over. The punishment finally came to an end at dawn, when Rowan arrived to see her. “Take me to the hospital.” Ophelia’s face was deathly pale, and her body swayed unsteadily. She was covered in wounds. Her clothes were torn to shreds from the beating, blood still seeping through the fabric. “Fine, but before you go to the hospital, you need to deal with the consequences you brought upon yourself.” “What do you mean?” Ophelia stared at Rowan’s tall figure. A terrible feeling rose in her chest. The next moment, a few bodyguards dressed in black walked in, eyeing her menacingly. Ophelia’s eyes trembled. An utterly horrifying thought slowly took shape in her mind. Rowan lit a cigarette and spoke nonchalantly. “The photos have been all over the internet for too long. Lydia doesn’t even dare to show her face in public anymore. The only way to bury the photos is to give the public something even more explosive to talk about. “This mess started because of you, so you’re going to clean it up. I don’t care how you do it.” He paused for a moment, then continued, “Besides, you still have me to fall back on. No matter what happens, you’ll never have to worry about food or a roof over your head for the rest of your life. Lydia is different. She only has herself.” What did any of that have to do with her? Lydia was in trouble, so he was going to sacrifice her instead? Ophelia finally snapped. She struggled wildly and screamed, “I told you! I didn’t post those photos! Rowan, you can’t do this to me!” She had been beaten all night. Her body was already too weak to fight back. The bodyguards swarmed her. Her torn clothing was ripped away, leaving her exposed before everyone in the room. Tears silently rolled down her cheeks. She slowly closed her eyes. She had loved this cold, heartless man for five years. She endured countless beatings and punishments for him. In the end, this was where her love had brought her. How ridiculous! Ophelia no longer remembered how she was taken to the hospital. When she opened her eyes again, all she saw was the stark white ceiling above her and the sharp smell of disinfectant. “You’re awake? Drink some water. Your lips are all cracked.” Rowan had a cigarette between his lips. His voice sounded as lazy as ever. Ophelia lowered her eyes and took the bottle of water he tossed toward her. She opened it and took a few sips. Rowan studied her face for a moment, then suddenly said, “Ophelia, you’re so fragile, and your mental fortitude is even worse. Why do you keep doing things behind people’s backs just to make them miserable? What’s the point? In the end, you always have to pay for it.” Ophelia’s hand stopped halfway to her lips. Her voice was hoarse. “I didn’t post those private photos.” “Enough. Do you really think I don’t know what you’re like?” Rowan’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve already been beaten. Your clothes have already been taken off. It’s not like I’m going to eat you. You can admit it now.” Ophelia tugged at the corner of her lips but said nothing more. This was who she was in his eyes, a petty, shameless woman who would stoop to anything. Just then, Rowan’s phone rang. It was Lydia. He answered almost instantly. It was nothing like when Ophelia called him. She could call ten times and be lucky if he answered even once. Ophelia stared silently at the floor. “What is it? You want me to cook? Wait for me at home… Don’t move… I’ll make it for you.” His voice was still lazy and casual, but compared to the way he spoke to her, there was so much more tenderness in it. After hanging up, he did not even wait for Ophelia to react. He simply walked away without looking back. The door opened, then closed. Ophelia stared at the empty doorway. Her heart felt as though someone had stuffed a huge wad of cotton inside, leaving her chest heavy and making it difficult to breathe. Cook? In five years of marriage, even when they had been at their happiest, Rowan had never cooked for her. He would not even play the two-player cooking game she loved with her because he could not be bothered. Now, the pampered scion who had never lifted a finger in the kitchen was actually willing to wash his hands and cook for the woman he loved? Five years of trying to please him and five years of lowering herself for him… None of it was worth anything. Chapter 4 Ophelia handled her discharge paperwork alone, then took a cab home by herself. The moment she opened the door, she saw Rowan seriously cooking in the kitchen while Lydia stood beside him, fooling around and making him laugh. They looked like a couple of newlyweds hopelessly in love. If this had been the old Ophelia, she would have gone completely crazy. She would have screamed, smashed the kitchen to pieces, and beaten the woman standing beside Rowan. However, she would not do that anymore. She would not make a scene. She simply stood there in silence, watching them quietly before saying, “Take your time. I’m going upstairs.” There was not a hint of emotion in Rowan’s voice. “Go back to the Hart residence and take your punishment if you’re jealous. Stop pulling little tricks behind my back. If you do it again…” He paused for a moment, then continued in an unhurried voice, "I won’t let it slide so easily next time.” Ophelia’s footsteps faltered. Then, without turning around, she replied, “There won’t be a next time.” He gave a mocking laugh. “Better not.” There truly would not be a next time. In two days, she would leave this place for good, and she would never come back. This time, she only returned to collect her belongings. In another couple of days, this house would have a new lady. It would not be appropriate for her to keep living here, so she might as well leave early. By the time Ophelia came downstairs with her suitcase, Rowan and Lydia were sitting at the table, having dinner. He smiled when he saw her carrying the suitcase. “What? Playing the runaway-from-home game this time?” Ophelia smiled. “Yeah. I’m playing the runaway-from-home game this time.” “Sure. My birthday is tomorrow. Come to my birthday party first, then you can get back to your little runaway act.” “Okay.” Just like that, Ophelia walked out of the villa right in front of them. After dropping her suitcase off at a hotel, she was about to head out and buy a few more things when, the moment she stepped out, someone grabbed her from behind, clamped a hand over her mouth and nose, and dragged her into an empty valley. When Ophelia opened her eyes again, she found herself suspended over the open sea. She was not alone. Lydia was there too, standing alongside the kidnappers. It was obvious that this was her doing again. “Lydia, what the hell do you want?!” Ophelia frowned and demanded in a cold voice. Lydia stared at her beautiful face. A flash of jealousy crossed her eyes. Then she suddenly raised her hand and slapped Ophelia across the face. “Rowan is already sick of you! Yet you still cling to him and refuse to divorce him? Fine. You don’t want a divorce? Then die in the ocean today!” Ophelia’s heart sank. “Lydia, you won’t get away with this. Rowan and I are husband and wife. If I disappear, he’ll definitely come looking for me. And when he finds out who you really are, do you think he’ll still love you?” Lydia let out a soft chuckle. She called the kidnappers over and had them suspend her as well. “Guess who Rowan will choose.” Ophelia pressed her lips together and said nothing more. After a while, Rowan arrived on the ship with a black case in his hand. Lydia’s eyes were red as she hurriedly cried out before Ophelia could speak. “Rowan, save me! Ophelia has gone crazy! She was the one who arranged this kidnapping! I’m scared!” Ophelia immediately explained, “That’s not true! Lydia is the mastermind behind this! Rowan, you have to believe me!” The usual laziness was gone from Rowan’s demeanor. He looked utterly cold and indifferent, his voice even more so. “Ophelia, I believe I warned you not to pull tricks behind my back. Why won’t you listen? First, you got Lydia’s private photos exposed, and now, you’re trying to have her killed?” Her face went deathly pale. She shook her head frantically, but no matter how desperately she tried to explain, Rowan refused to listen to a single word. The kidnapper’s eyes gleamed as he shouted, “Mr. Cabell, you have to choose. One’s your wife, and the other is…” Rowan cut him off. He casually tossed the black case forward and said with a cold, icy voice, “Don’t bother. I choose Lydia. This is the 30 million dollars you asked for. Count it.” The kidnapper froze for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Good! I don't need to count the bills. I trust you, Mr. Cabell. Come on, untie Lydia.” Ophelia gave a bitter smile. Rowan had never believed a word she said. He only believed Lydia. The moment Lydia was lowered onto the deck, she rushed straight into Rowan’s arms. The sea breeze swept past them as they embraced in front of everyone, looking like lovers who had just survived a disaster and were simply relieved to know the other was still alive. “Rowan, what about Ophelia…” Lydia hesitated for a moment, her face filled with concern. However, from the angle Rowan could not see, she looked straight at Ophelia with a smug, provocative smile. Rowan held Lydia in his arms and walked away without looking back. His voice was indifferent. “Wasn’t this kidnapping her own doing? I already gave them 30 million. Isn’t that enough?” “I’m not sure Ophelia really arranged it. Shouldn’t you save her…” “No, I’m not saving her. Let her die.” Those words completely shattered the last sliver of hope in Ophelia’s heart. The rope holding her was cut, and Ophelia plunged straight into the dark, swirling depths of the sea. Chapter 5 Ophelia thought she would die in the ocean. However, she did not. By some miracle, she survived and was rescued. When she opened her eyes again, she was once again in a hospital room. “You’re awake?” Rowan stood by the door. His voice was impossible to read. Ophelia’s throat was dry and raw. She struggled to sit up and reached for the glass of water beside her. The next second, he knocked the glass from her reach, and it hit the floor with a sharp crack. Water spilled all over the floor. His face twisted with mockery. “Thirsty? Get out of bed and lick it off the floor. Ophelia, you’re really asking to be taught a lesson. Was staging your own kidnapping fun?” Ophelia lowered her eyes and replied in a hoarse voice, “Wasn’t I thrown into the ocean? Who saved me?” Rowan laughed. He mockingly patted her cheek before tossing his phone in front of her. “Who else? Your accomplices. Look how considerate they were. They were worried you’d get hypothermia, so they even found some clothes to cover you with. Now that they’ve got 30 million, how much will each of them get? I bet you’re taking the biggest cut, aren’t you?” The photos on his phone showed several of the kidnappers about to cover the unconscious Ophelia with clothes. “It wasn’t me. I don’t know…” She forced the words out. “Enough!” Rowan cut her off irritably. “Aren’t you tired of this? What’s the point? The evidence is right in your face, and you’re still trying to deny it!” An unbearable silence settled over the room. Ophelia closed her eyes briefly and stopped speaking. Perhaps Rowan could not stand looking at her face any longer, so he walked over to the window. With his back to her, he lit a cigarette and spoke without emotion, “After Lydia’s wedding party, I’ll send her somewhere else. You two won’t have to see each other anymore, so you can stop going after her.” Ophelia was exhausted. She did not want to explain anymore that none of this had been her doing. She had tried to explain so many times, yet he never believed her even once. She turned her head toward the window. “If you love her that much, you can divorce me and be with her.” Rowan let out a cold laugh. “I’m afraid that once I divorce you, you’ll completely lose your mind. Then I’ll have a crazy woman following me and Lydia around all day.” She opened her mouth. “I won’t bother you anymore. The day after tomorrow, I’ll…” He cut her off with a hint of impatience, “Enough! There isn’t a single truthful word that comes out of your mouth. I don’t want to hear it. I have to go with Lydia to pick out the dress she’ll wear to tomorrow’s birthday party. You can stay here by yourself.” Then, Rowan turned around and strode out without looking back. Ophelia stared at the empty doorway and put on a faint smile. … Early the next morning, Ophelia did her makeup and changed into a fresh outfit. Her marriage to Rowan was not over yet, so she was still his wife. Rule number 673 of the Hart family code stated that a wife must attend her husband’s birthday. Today was the last day. She did not want anything to go wrong. At the birthday party, Ophelia was supposed to be the one standing beside Rowan. She was his wife, after all. Yet the woman beside him was Lydia. Amid everyone’s cheers and teasing, the two of them held the same knife and cut the first slice of cake together. A handsome man and a beautiful woman, they were a match made in heaven. Bathed in the glow of the lights, they looked perfectly suited to each other, like a couple hopelessly in love. Ophelia stood in the shadows, silently watching it all. She did not embarrass herself by stepping forward and making things awkward for everyone. Instead, she quietly found a corner and drank alone. During the games that followed, Lydia targeted her at every turn. When Ophelia lost, the rule was simple—the loser had to slap herself once, then drink three glasses. When Ophelia won, the rule changed—the winner had to take off one piece of clothing. If she refused, she had to slap herself once, then drink three glasses. It was the 99th slap and the 297th penalty drink. Ophelia’s cheeks were swollen, and her stomach churned with a burning ache from the alcohol. The entire room fell silent. The only person still speaking was Rowan, quietly coaxing the sulking Lydia. “Don’t be mad. I even changed the rules to suit you. Why are you still crying? Come on. Stop crying, okay?” Chapter 6 Ophelia watched calmly, then tilted her head back and finished the last glass of alcohol. The birthday party did not end until late. Ophelia spent a long time hunched over the toilet, vomiting, before finally making her way out of the bathroom. To her surprise, Rowan was still there. “Lydia gave you a hard time today because you kidnapped her yesterday. If you’re upset about it, you can say it now. Don’t go behind her back and pull something again just to hurt her.” He thought her silence today meant she was already planning another way to hurt Lydia… Ophelia nodded. “Anything else?” Rowan frowned and studied her for several seconds, as though he could not believe how calm she was. “One more thing. There’s a wedding party for Lydia tomorrow. She wants you there too, so you’re coming.” He had not asked whether her face still hurt, or whether her stomach was still hurting. The only thing he cared about was whether she was going to hurt Lydia. The last trace of emotion in Ophelia’s heart finally disappeared. However, he did not know that she would not be coming tomorrow. She was leaving. “Okay.” She watched Rowan leave from behind and murmured softly, “Goodbye.” On her final day in the city, Ophelia stood on the street with her suitcase, watching the grand celebration Rowan had arranged for Lydia. Just one night had been enough to transform the entire city. Flowers and balloons were everywhere. Wedding photos of Rowan and Lydia covered the bus stops, streetlights, cafes… Everywhere Lydia looked, festive banners and decorations proclaimed their wedding. Along the way, even the cab driver could not help but marvel, “I wonder whose wedding this is. They really went all out. Look at those wedding photos playing on the skyscraper screens. And those drones up there! I hear there’s even going to be a fireworks show later. "Young lady, are you sure you don’t want to stick around and take a look before you leave?” Ophelia smiled and replied, “No, I’m in a hurry.” At the airport, she opened the wedding video a friend had sent her on her phone. The venue had been decorated like something out of a dream. It was obvious how much effort Rowan had put into it. The wedding dress Lydia wore was a one-of-a-kind custom gown inspired by a white swan, the exact dress Ophelia had once wanted to order for her own wedding but had been unable to get. She was just about to close the video when a message from the delivery driver suddenly popped up. [Hi, your divorce certificate has arrived.] Ophelia slowly typed out an address. [Please deliver the divorce certificate to the address I sent you. Thank you.] This was her wedding gift to Rowan. She was sure he would be happy when he saw it. Her phone suddenly rang. It was Rowan who called. Ophelia did not answer. She simply let it ring until he hung up on his own. A moment later, he sent her a message. [You have three minutes. Come out of the hotel.] Ophelia did not reply to his message. Instead, she blocked his number and boarded the plane. She thought to herself, ‘Rowan, from this day onward, you walk your path, and I’ll walk mine. We’re even. We owe each other nothing.’