No One Ever Loved Me - Chapter 122

To be honest, I didn’t need an elaborate plan to get rid of Ricardo.

All I had to do was look him in the eye and say, “The more I see you, the more suffocated I feel. Whatever affection I had for you is fading.” That would’ve been enough.

The problem was… seeing him didn’t make me feel suffocated at all.

Instead, like a broken scale, my feelings kept tipping more and more in his direction.

I didn’t have a talent for lying, so just keeping my expression neutral already took all the effort I had.

If not for that, I’d have given myself away long ago.

This was the same man who had once said he’d follow me to Nathan and live as my lover—even before there were any signs I might say yes.

If he found out I was attracted to him, he wouldn’t take me to Nathan. He’d take me straight to the Countess, demanding we get married immediately.

To most people, this wouldn’t even seem like a dilemma. But for me, it was.

I couldn’t trust my own heart. And if I couldn’t trust my own, how could I possibly trust someone else’s?

Feelings—no matter how strong—are always prone to change.

My mother likely believed she loved my father right up to the moment she died. But in truth, it was obsession.

She had clung to the word love in an attempt to overcome the pain of being abandoned by him.

It was only after crossing worlds and separating even from her spirit that I could finally face my feelings for Ricardo.

And the truth was: I liked him.

He saw right through my emptiness—and didn’t run away.

He didn’t pressure me, didn’t try to fill me with things I didn’t ask for.

He just begged me not to leave. He said I didn’t have to accept anything—just don’t disappear.

Yes, he had a bit of possessiveness. But he tried so hard to keep it hidden. That only scared me more.

If I showed him how I truly felt, Ricardo would be thrilled. But how long would that joy last?

What if I couldn’t keep up with him? What if my pace was too slow? Would his love survive his frustration?

Feelings are often strongest when they’re one-sided. If my father had never met another woman, my mother might not have been driven to such despair.

Ricardo, right now, was prepared to accept unrequited love. But once a sliver of hope appears, and the person he loves doesn’t take even a single step toward him—it could drive him mad.

Even after my mother died, I was still bound by her spirit.

Even in an entirely different world, I barely felt her absence.

Everything I’d seen and experienced had been through her lens. If Ricardo’s feelings ever changed, I already knew who he’d become—he’d become her.

I had spent my whole life trying not to become like my mother. I never let anyone in, just so I wouldn’t have to be left behind.

Not friends, not lovers—not even fleeting connections. All of it was too much for me.

I had killed and buried my emotions so deeply that I could now pretend I’d never had them in the first place.

I locked the door, turned the key, and still wasn’t satisfied. I built a wall on top of it all.

Even if I found the key and managed to turn the handle, I’d still find a wall standing in front of me.

The very traps I laid to keep others out ended up keeping me in.

So how could I be sure that Ricardo wouldn’t grow tired of waiting for someone like me?

I had worn Cecilia’s skin, paid her debts, and finally declared that this was me now… but I was still my mother’s daughter.

“Lia.”

Ricardo, who had just finished reading both the morning and evening editions of the newspaper, looked at me with concern.

“Did something in the articles bother you?”

Of course not. He had a talent for picking out only the stories I’d find interesting.

Since returning to the stage, Elodie no longer made front-page headlines like she once did, but Ricardo still combed through every column to make sure he didn’t miss even the smallest mention.

“I saw that Elodie’s performance schedule was released.”

“Yes, it was.”

“And you think that’s what upset me?”

“No, probably not. You’re not showing it on your face, but I figured I’d ask. Is it because she still doesn’t have a sponsor?”

I turned my head away to avoid his hand. Unbothered, Ricardo simply adjusted the cushion behind me instead.

“Is it because I told you not to meet with Lady Margaret?”

“Hardly. It’s not like you could stop me even if you tried. I already sent word—I’ll be visiting Viscount Damier’s estate tomorrow.”

Ricardo had the run of the entire Rosette estate—except for my room.

Martha had appointed the same child who’d brought Penelope to the house to act as hallway monitor.

The little one patrolled the corridor outside my door with sharp eyes and would run straight to Martha the moment Ricardo showed up.

Martha said even if she couldn’t physically stop Ricardo, it was important to know what he was up to—and that was enough of a difference.

Thanks to that, my room was the only place I could truly escape his gaze. And in that quiet, I wrote my letter to Margaret.

Justin, unlike the previous butler, was loyal only to me. I didn’t have to worry about him reading or revealing anything.

Thanks to Ricardo being out fetching the evening paper, I actually had a fairly peaceful day for once.

But the moment I mentioned that I’d already sent a letter to Margaret, just look at the way his eyes narrowed into sharp little triangles. If it hadn’t been for my ever-loyal butler, I would’ve had to put up with that look all through the afternoon.

“You already sent it.”

“Yes, already.”

“So that ‘short afternoon nap’ you mentioned earlier… was really just an excuse to write to Lady Margaret.”

“I did nap. I’ve been waking up earlier than usual lately—because of you, I might add.”

“Isn’t that a bit dramatic? It’s only been two days.”

“Well, I was catching up on two days’ worth of lost sleep. Still feels like it’s not enough.”

I needed to get Ricardo out of the house, but I hadn’t come up with a way to do it without hurting him. So instead of pushing him out—I’d go out myself.

He didn’t like Margaret, but not to the point of refusing to go where I was going.

Which meant, of course, that he’d insist on coming along. But Margaret disliked Ricardo enough that she’d never allow him past the gates of Viscount Damier’s estate.

He could come if he wanted—but all he’d be doing was sitting in the carriage outside. A perfect way to shake him off for a while.

Besides, I could talk to Margaret about Elodie’s situation too. Kill two birds with one stone.

After two full days of being around Ricardo, I could barely think straight. And becoming more aware of my own feelings certainly wasn’t helping.

“Don’t even think about forcing Viscount Damier to invite you inside,” I said. “I’m just going to see Margaret for a bit. I’ll be back once I’ve finished what I need to do.”

“You say it’s just Lady Margaret you’re visiting, but that doesn’t seem to be the only errand you have.”

“Well… true. I might take care of a few other things while I’m out.”

I wasn’t referring to his mother, if that’s what he thought.

It was impossible to meet her without him knowing, especially now that the truth was out.

“I’m also thinking of stopping by the Count of Linton’s estate.”

“Why there?”

“Just in case he hasn’t heard that Elodie is returning to the stage. I want to make sure he knows. And while I’m there, I’ll remind him that I’m well aware of the land he hasn’t fully paid for yet. I’ll let him know that if he doesn’t pay compensation to both Elodie and me, I’ll go straight to the rightful landowner. Then I’ll watch his face as I say it. Sounds like I’ve got a full day tomorrow.”

Ricardo’s shoulders, which had been tense, finally relaxed.

“Then I’ll go with you to the Count of Linton’s estate.”

“You can, sure—but you do realize there are at least three people in this house who are just waiting for you to step outside so they can lock the doors behind you.”

Martha, Justin, and Penelope. They were practically hoping Ricardo would walk out on his own. They’d made it clear that once he was out, keeping him out would be no trouble at all.

That’s why Ricardo never set both feet past the front entrance, even when going out for the newspaper.

“Suit yourself,” I said.

“I don’t want to have any freedom from you. I want you to take control—ignore my will entirely and order me around.”

“How can I do that to the young Marquis Bastian? Even if you weren’t nobility, I don’t believe in violating someone’s free will.”

“You can respect everyone else. Just not me. Forget respect. Be stubborn. Push me around until I can’t take it.”

This—this is exactly why Ricardo’s love scared me.

Because one day, the man who begged me to treat him however I pleased might suddenly change. And when that day came, the damage would be anything but small.

“If you’re not coming with me tomorrow,” I said, “then I have a task for you, Ricardo.”

I kept my eyes fixed on the darkening window. If I looked at his face, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to say it.

“If I don’t want to be your one and only ‘understanding soul,’ what would you do? I don’t need a worshipper. I’ve never wanted one. Your usefulness ended the moment my divorce was finalized. You said you wanted to be my lover but not share my bed. So tell me—if I’m not your confidante, what am I to you? Think about it, and give me your answer tomorrow.”

Ricardo’s gaze clung to the side of my face, but I refused to look back.

Even as I stood and left the drawing room, I didn’t glance his way.

“If I solve the assignment,” he asked behind me, “do I get a reward?”

Before I could touch the doorknob, the door swung open.

It was one of the garden maids, the one Martha had assigned to keep watch over me. She always hovered nearby under Martha’s orders.

“Maybe,” I replied.

The maid peeked inside, curious when I didn’t come out right away. Her eyes widened slightly when she spotted Ricardo and quickly looked away, flustered.

“So I’m supposed to do all that for a maybe reward?”

“You did ask me to boss you around.”

“I meant use me. Lock me up if you have to. If I’d known you were going to pretend I didn’t exist, I would’ve phrased it differently.”

Lock him up, he said. That clearly wasn’t what he meant, but the poor maid turned red just hearing the words.

I’d thought she was still just a child—but maybe that was exactly why she blushed so easily at a few suggestive remarks.

“I’m not locking you up. I already told you—you can leave if you want to.”

“Now that I think about it… being locked in doesn’t sound so bad. I’ll stay quietly and work on my homework.”

I shook my head and stepped out of the room.

The maid, who clearly had no idea she was supposed to walk quietly when following her mistress, trailed behind me with loud, clumsy footsteps, sneaking glances at me the whole way.

“The other maids say the young Marquis isn’t a good match for you,” she said suddenly. “But I think you two really suit each other.”

She said it so confidently, I couldn’t even scold her.

“Oh?”

“My mother always said good-looking men should be kept on a short leash. Otherwise, they’ll stray. But the young Marquis is, well, the young Marquis. Who could possibly keep a man like him tied down? Only you, miss. That’s why you two are meant for each other.”

As if Ricardo could be “kept on a leash” by anyone.

I looked at the girl, slightly bewildered, then shook my head.

It wasn’t that I was flattered by her suggestion that we were a perfect match.

I just didn’t want to be swayed by a child’s words—no matter how innocent or insightful they seemed.

Back in my room, I handed her a silk ribbon as a small reward—not for her words, but because she’d been diligent in doing her job.

Not even a little bit because of what she said.

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