"Miss Shelton, are you certain you wish to return to Milan for your studies and divorce Mr. Ryan Fulmer?"
I nodded without hesitation, yet a mocking smile touched my lips.
In three years of marriage, he touched me only once on our wedding night. After that, even brushing against a strand of my hair filled him with disgust. He said, "Since you married a heartless and loveless man, you have to bear the consequences."
I believed him, until another woman appeared and he tasted the sweetness of love for the first time.
I even overheard them flirting once. "Could you assign me that nanny you married as my assistant?" she asked him.
Hearing it, Ryan chuckled with indulgence. "As long as you like it, even making her your slave is fine. She's best at serving people anyway."
For this decade of loving Ryan Fulmer, I gave up my chance to study abroad and paid with my father's life, all to finally become his wife. Yet I was merely a joke to him.
Since that was the case, I would grant him his freedom. I immediately called my mother. "Mom, please help me apply to study abroad."
***
"You want to climb into my bed and make me fall for you? Wake up."
Those words were like knives slowly tearing at my heart. I clenched the hem of my clothes tightly, letting out a bitter laugh.
I knew this would happen before I married him, so why did my heart still ache so much? For a moment, I regretted loving such a heartless and loveless person.
On the day I got married, my neighbors openly showed their disdain and hurled abuse, while my mother nearly cried herself blind. Nevertheless, I chose to marry Ryan without hesitation.
But because he was inherently heartless and loveless, I got warned on our wedding night. He told me, "Our marriage is only an arrangement by our parents. From now on, whatever I do, you have no right to interfere."
Not only that, over the next three years, I was treated like I didn't exist at all.
Messages I sent him always went unanswered. When I had a full-body allergic reaction and foamed at the mouth, he simply walked past. Even after I shielded him from a rival's knife, bleeding profusely from my abdomen and suffering a miscarriage, all I got was his indifference. He ignored my feelings and refused to touch me.
Ryan played the character of the unfeeling, heartless man to the extreme; as a result, I broke down. In deep agony, I desperately sought a reason, but was met with mockery.
"You know better than I why I married you back then. This is the last time. Don't ever play the victim with me again."
With that, he disgustedly shook off my hand as he coldly warned me.
Suddenly, the villa door swung open. A woman briskly walked to Ryan's side, linked her arm with his and whispered something.
He nodded repeatedly and even affectionately pinched her nose, showing not a trace of displeasure.
My whole body trembled as I stared at the two of them in disbelief. Was this still my husband, Ryan Fulmer, the man known for being heartless and keeping me at a distance?
I remembered that he only made love to me once since our marriage and never shared a bed with me again.
Later, after three years of marriage, I couldn't even recall the exact location of the mole on his collarbone. Meanwhile, the woman before me skillfully lifted his collar and bit his neck.
It turned out his heartlessness had exceptions, too.
After a moment of flirting, the woman seemed to notice me out of the corner of her eye. "Is this the nanny you married?"
Ryan seemed to find me an eyesore, wrapping his arm around her to leave. Unexpectedly, the woman affectionately grabbed my hand, smiling innocently. "It's so lonely leaving her alone in the villa. Ryan, could you assign her to me as an assistant?"
My husband chuckled indulgently. "As long as you like it, even making her your maid is fine."
I unclenched my palm, which was raw and bleeding from being dug by my fingernails and forced a smile. "Didn't you say you wouldn't fall in love with anyone? Why … "
"Bodyguard, tie her to the car," Ryan cut me off and continued walking forward with the woman in his embrace.
When I was thrown into the back seat, I slammed heavily against the car window and a hanging ornament cut my forehead. A rush of bitter resentment welled up in my heart, but then a bandage suddenly appeared in front of me.
"My little dog got hurt earlier and Mr. Fulmer helped buy this," that woman said, then extended her hand to me in a friendly manner. "Hello, I am Annie Whitmore."
