A Young Lady With Terrible Luck With Men Was Told by Her Husband, “I’ll Never Love You,” so She Intended To Remain Indifferent, but…

A Young Lady With Terrible Luck With Men Was Told by Her Husband, “I’ll Never Love You,” so She Intended To Remain Indifferent, but… 

Raw: https://ncode.syosetu.com/n4258ld/

I — Martina Owen — have always been cursed when it comes to men. 

When I was little, my first love suddenly began to bully me; the fiancé arranged for me in middle school ran away with a teacher; and my high-school fiancé abruptly told me, “I’ve met my destined partner,” and broke our engagement.

And now, at nineteen, my new fiancé says to me bluntly:

“I will never love you.”

I see… well, I already knew. I’d steeled myself. Something like this was bound to happen.

“All right. I understand. That’s fine.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I clapped a hand over my mouth. When I glanced at my fiancé — Lord Richard — he looked astonished, his eyes wide.

“R-right. If that’s the case, then fine.”

He turned away and walked off. Watching him go, I let out a breath.

“This is going to be a rough road ahead, isn’t it…”

The words I muttered dissolved into the air.

After that, we held a wedding in name only, and led lives that didn’t involve one another. We ate together only at mealtimes; otherwise we hardly saw one another.

I performed the minimum duties expected of a wife, but truly, that was all.

At first I thought perhaps he had someone else he loved, but that didn’t seem to be the case…

He spent his days quietly working, or reading in his study… I seldom saw him go out except for work.

So perhaps he simply disliked me. Well, if that’s the case, that’s that. It’s a lie to say it didn’t sting a little, but there’s nothing I could do about it.

Between the days I did embroidery, tended flowers, and tried baking sweets… I consoled myself that way.

A turning point came several weeks later.

After I had dressed to attend a party hosted by the duke’s household and stepped before my husband, his face looked utterly shocked.

“—Is that your dress?”

“Yes. Is there something wrong with it?”

Had something been odd? I had chosen a tasteful emerald-green dress…

“N—no. It’s just that I though you might have shown more cleavage, or had a back cut way down…”

“Would you have preferred a dress like that?”

“Of course not! It’s just that my mother and my former fiancée favored those sorts of dresses…”

I see. So his mother and his former fiancée liked bold gowns. And so he did have a former fiancée — I’d never known. Well, it hardly matters to me.

“I have no intention of ever wearing such a dress, now or in the future.”

“…I see. Ah, well, then, let’s go.”

“Yes.”

At the duke’s house, where the party was held, we finished our greetings and I let out a small sigh. I had never been comfortable in places like this.

“…Oh. Isn’t that Richard?”

My husband turned in surprise at a voice nearby.

“…S—Sylvia?”

“Long time no see. How have you been?”

The woman who called him that smiled brightly at him. Thick makeup, a vivid red dress with a plunging neckline, and a deep slit up to the thigh that showed a lot of leg. Amazing. I’d never seen anyone wear a dress like that!

I guessed—probably correctly—that she was the former fiancée he’d been talking about earlier.

“…What do you want?”

“Oh, come on. You’re always so gloomy. It’s such a shame because you have a good face.”

“….”

While Ms. Sylvia seemed in high spirits, my husband looked ill. It was clear he didn’t want to see her.

“You were so petty you broke an engagement just because someone was friendly with someone else, weren’t you? I hope you put the compensation we took from you to good use.”

What? Who does she think she is? I didn’t know the details, but to take compensation and then say something like that—

“—By the way, I heard you got married? Is this your wife?”

Ms. Sylvia looked at me and smiled.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Martina Krengel.”

When I curtseyed, she breathed a little “hmm.”

“Oh… is that so. …What can I say, rather plain… oh my, sorry. You look steady and sensible. Tee-hee.”

She was unbearably snide. She didn’t even return the greeting properly. Well, since she was trying to be insulting, I might as well respond in kind.

“Yes, that’s right. My husband dislikes the tastelessly overdone—oh pardon me—gaudy style that you favor, so he married someone like me.”

“What!?”

“…!”

My husband’s head snapped toward us in surprise.

“What is the meaning of this rude woman!”

“Rude? Are you the one saying that when you can’t even reply to a greeting? Ah, you who go out of your way to speak to your former fiancée, you clearly have no manners. My apologies.”

“H-haah!?”

“Don’t worry. I’m on good terms with your husband… unlike you, right? —Let’s go, darling.”

“Ah, ah…”

“Hey! Don’t make fun of me! I won’t forgive you! Do you hear me!?”

I told one of the nearby guards about Ms. Sylvia making a scene, and, taking my husband’s hand, we quickly moved away.

“…Phew. That was troublesome, wasn’t it.”

“…U-um…”

“…I’m sorry. I went on and on about myself…”

“No. That isn’t….”

“—Martina?”

A familiar voice suddenly cut into our conversation.

“I knew it! Long time no see!”

“…Filent… Lord Filent?”

Why did it have to be Lord Filent of all people!?

“Who is this?”

At my husband’s question, I knitted my brows and replied.

“…E—he’s my ex-fiancé….”

“Good evening. Is this the new fiancé of yours?”

“He’s my husband.”

“Oh… you married, huh.”

What’s with this ‘You married someone other than me…’ vibe?

“—I’m sorry about what happened back then.”

Lord Filent averted his eyes awkwardly.

“I was young, and I got swept up by the atmosphere and was drawn to a lively, cute girl. Martina, you were serious in both good and bad ways; being together felt dull, like being with a mother… I just couldn’t see you as the opposite sex.”

Why are you saying that now!? I’d always thought him tactless, but to go on and on like this…!

“But I’m glad you found a good match. I couldn’t have made you happy, but I’ve always wondered about you. If you’d been hung up on me, I’d have been sorry… honestly, I’m happy for you!”

“….”

I didn’t know what to say and looked down. Someone pulled my shoulder close.

“…Huh?”

“Yes. I will make her happy, so please don’t worry. I don’t know what your relationship was, but I’d appreciate you refraining from rude remarks. Her seriousness is a virtue. You have no right to belittle her by saying you were drawn to an empty-headed bimbo.”

“Lord Richard…”

I was stunned at my husband’s words.

“Eh? Ah, s-sorry…”

“Let’s go.”

Ignoring Lord Filent’s apology, my husband took my hand. He hurried me to a quiet place and we both exhaled.

“—Haa—”

When our eyes met with a snap, we both looked away, feeling awkward.

“…Um, earlier… thank you.”

My husband spoke first, and I was flustered.

“…Eh!? N-no, thank you.”

I was truly… very happy.

“…Yes…”

“…Ah…”

We couldn’t continue the conversation. What was this feeling? When I lifted my eyes, our gazes met again.

This time, neither of us looked away.

His black hair, gently waving; golden eyes. He always looked a little pale, but he was very handsome. Perhaps this was the first time I’d really looked at my husband properly. I laughed at myself for only realizing this after marrying him.

“Greetings are finished. Shall we go home?”

“…Yes.”

“—Or…”

He held out his hand, and I tilted my head, puzzled.

“Shall we dance a song first?”

At that unexpected offer, I blinked.

“—Y-yes! By all means!”

When I eagerly took his hand, he covered his mouth as if to hide a smile.

“…Haha… sorry. You were so lively you grabbed my hand like that.”

“S-sorry… for being immodest…”

When I tried to let go in embarrassment, he held on tightly.

“…Would you mind if we didn’t dance in the hall?”

“…No. That’s fine.”

We danced, lit only by the moonlight.

That became the trigger that brought us far closer than before.

—When I was out doing gardening—

“What are you doing?”

“…My husband. As you can see, I’m tending flowers.”

“Oh… is it fun?”

“Yes. It’s enjoyable.”

“…May I help?”

“Eh? Y-yes. Of course!”

—When my husband was going out—

“I’m going into town now. Would you like to come along?”

“May I?”

“…Yes.”

“I’ll get ready right away.”

—When I brought flowers I had grown—

“These are flowers I raised. If it isn’t inconvenient, please put them in your study.”

“Ah, thank you…”

—When we had tea together—

“I was thinking of having tea now. Would you join me?”

“…I’ll come with you.”

Bit by bit, we grew closer. One night, he asked me to have a talk.

When I carried tea into the parlor, my husband was already there, and he set two cups before us.

As I reached for my teacup to take a sip, he bowed his head and I was surprised, my hand pausing.

“First, I want to apologize for what I said at the start. —I’m sorry.”

“The start… do you mean when you said, ‘I will never love you’?”

“…Ah. I spoke harshly.”

“No. At first it was a shock, of course, but now I understand that there was a reason.”

“—You were shocked?”

“…Huh?”

“Well, you seemed fine back then…”

“…That was…”

—We talked about ourselves. For a long, long time.

I told him about my first love when I was little, and about my former fiancés.

He told me that his late mother had been having an affair for a long time, and that his former fiancée, Ms. Sylvia, had cheated on him — with multiple people. Because of that, he had developed distrust of women.

“That would certainly give you distrust of women.”

“You’d be tempted to give up on everything, too.”

We laughed together. The two of us could now look back and laugh at the past.

“—But you were different.”

“Yes. And you, too.”

We looked into each other’s eyes.

“Do you think we can make this work?”

“…Probably. At least I want to make it work with you.”

“Yes, I do too.”

I offered my hand.

“Would you hold hands with me?”

My husband took my hand.

“—It’s warm.”

“Yes. It is warm.”

I squeezed our joined hands a little and smiled at him.

“Let’s become a proper married couple little by little.”

“Aye. I’ll be counting on you, Martina.”

“Yes!”

When my husband called me by my name for the first time, I wore a beaming smile.

Extra

“My husband, you’re overworking yourself. You should rest a little… your face has finally started to look better recently.”

“…Just a little more and it’ll be done.”

“…No. Even if it’s work, if you push yourself you’ll ruin your health. —Here, please. Rest a bit.”

I sat on the sofa and patted my knees.

“You like having your head on my lap, don’t you?”

“Well… I suppose I do.”

“If you like it now, I’ll even give you a little post-nap treat. Your favourite pudding!”

At my words, my husband exhaled a small breath and smiled.

“…Very well. Then I’ll rest a bit.”

He lay down on the sofa and placed his head in my lap.

“…Haha.”

I gently stroked his soft, fluffy hair resting on my knees.

“(It’s not that I like lap pillows so much as I like watching you look so content…)”

“…? Did you say something?”

“No. Well then, I shall indulge myself.”

“Good night, my lord.”

In the study where a pleasant breeze flowed, we dozed peacefully together once more.