He Never Saw Her Love

It is the third year of my marriage when the video of my bodyguard, Julian Sutherland, holding an umbrella over me in a downpour goes viral.

Overnight, the internet becomes obsessed with the "Icy Protector and his Forbidden Heiress."

Netizens are relentless; they dig through the archives until they unearth a ten-year-old clip.

In the video, a girl was holding a pair of high-heeled shoes while sprinting through the Folander airport.

My friend teased, "No way, Ms. Serina Brown. Are you really flying back home to confess to that poor man? What could you possibly see in him?"

The camera shakes, capturing my youthful face. I was just a reckless 20-year-old.

"I love Julian. I love everything about him."

That night, after seeing the video, Julian loses his composure and bursts into my room.

"I didn't know you loved me back then. I thought… I thought… God, it was never supposed to end like this."

I pull my coat around me and stand rooted on the spot, remaining silent.

Suddenly, a mocking laugh echoes from behind me. Someone places their hand firmly on my waist and says, "Are you trying to reminisce about your love with my wife right in front of me? Do I look dead to you?"

I didn't realize the netizens were rooting for Julian and me until my assistant, Melinda Lane, handed me a tablet.

Her expression was strained as she explained, "A video of you from ten years ago has hit the trending charts as well."

The screen flickered, playing a grainy, low-resolution clip.

"I knew there was something there! What bodyguard looks at his employer like a starving dog eyeing a bone?"

"It's too bad Ms. Brown is married."

"It's an arranged marriage. I guess this is a case of two lovers forced apart due to their differences."

The video's popularity continued to skyrocket. In the comment section, netizens had already spun a tragic, soul-crushing saga about Julian and me.

The write-up was so vivid, detailing non-existent struggles and bouts of helpless longing. I almost started to believe it.

However, a few comments from people who actually seemed to know the truth tried to push back.

"What on earth is this? Julian and Ms. Brown were never a couple. Back then, she was the one chasing him like crazy, and he turned her down."

I clicked on that comment, and a flood of skeptical replies surged the screen.

"No way. Julian definitely loves her. The eyes don't lie, and in that video, he only had eyes for her."

I switched off the tablet and stopped reading about their delusions.

Ten years ago, I, too, believed that Julian loved me. That's why it was the first time I cast aside every ounce of my dignity and common sense and chased after him.

Yet, the cross-continental chase that had drained me of every bit of courage I possessed turned out to be nothing more than a one-woman show.

After that, I returned to Guskor to complete my education. Julian went on to fall in love and marry. We led different lives.

Then, recently, I returned to the country with my husband, Cyrus Olson. Our relatives organized a security detail for our arrival, and by some twist of fate, Julian was part of the team.

I used to stay awake at night, wondering if Julian ever loved me. Now, I didn't care about him anymore.

It made me feel a little sick to my stomach to see others scrutinizing me and commenting on my romantic history.

I first met Julian when I was 18. That was the year my parents arranged a marriage for me that I wanted no part of. So, I ran away from home to an obscure little city in the south.

However, luck was not on my side. I stepped out of the train and hailed an unlicensed cab.

Two miles into the trip, the car broke down along the road in a deserted town.

The driver climbed out, cursing under his breath as he inspected the engine. A moment later, he demanded an extra 500 bucks to cover the repair costs.

When I refused, he turned livid and cursed at me, raising a hand as if to strike.

I clutched my bag and backed away. It was the first time I felt so terrified.

That was when Julian appeared. He rolled up on a motorcycle, propping it up with one leg as he cast a cool, indifferent glance at the driver.

"This isn't right, sir," he said.

The driver spat on the ground and hissed, "Mind your own business!"

Julian tilted his chin toward me, signaling for me to come over. "The police station is a mile away. Should we invite them over to settle this?"

In the end, the driver cursed and sped off. Julian turned to me. The sun was casting a golden glow across his features.

"Heading into town? I'll give you a lift," Julian offered.