Love Me Just Once (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 16
At his words, Ophelia, who had been bowing her head with her face covered, lifted her eyes sharply.
Between the gaps of her fingers, her sapphire eyes flashed. Idren faltered momentarily at the icy gaze—so cold it seemed capable of freezing her heart solid.
After a brief silence, Ophelia finally spoke.
“I hanged myself.”
“…Excuse me, what did you say?”
“Are you deaf? I said I hanged myself.”
Then Ophelia removed the hands that had been covering her face. She wiped away the cold sweat and blood smeared across her cheeks.
She had clearly hanged herself from the bedpost—perfectly positioned for a clean death.
And yet.
And yet when she opened her eyes, she found herself in this damned room.
The moment she saw herself sitting at the vanity in the mirror, with a maidservant combing her hair, Ophelia screamed—a raw, guttural shriek tearing from her throat.
She grabbed a perfume bottle from the vanity and hurled it at the mirror. Oil and glass shards splattered everywhere.
The maidservant trembled violently, stumbling backward before shrieking that Ophelia was possessed by demons.
Ophelia thrust a basket filled with wilted flowers into the girl’s arms and unceremoniously dragged her out the door. She feared that if she left the girl to scream any longer, something terrible might happen.
After all, she already had a history of driving multiple people to their deaths.
The room, now empty, was exactly as she remembered it. The familiar curtains, the familiar bed, the familiar vanity, familiar, familiar.
That familiarity felt like finely ground glass—sharp enough to sting, seeping into every corner.
So Ophelia grabbed a chair and swung it, smashing that damned familiarity to pieces.
When the chair leg snapped, sending splinters tearing through her skin and clothes, she felt nothing at all.
It was only when she heard a familiar voice that Ophelia, lost in her frenzy, dropped the weapon in her hands.
Idren Sigrasil’s voice pulled her back from the edge of dissolving reality. His tone carried urgency—a sound that proved she hadn’t truly gone mad.
Recognizing this, Ophelia let go of the broken chair and hurriedly ushered the man inside—the sole evidence that she hadn’t lost her mind.
But once he was in, she only felt deeper despair.
Idren was utterly unlike her, yet what he knew was hardly different from what she herself knew.
Thus, he offered neither comfort nor aid.
Ophelia shook off the hand of the man with star-like eyes. Just as she staggered toward the bed, still bearing a grotesque mark where she’d slammed into a pillar—
“…Are you telling me you tried to end your life again?”
His voice was fractured. Ophelia paused for a moment—but that was all. She neither turned around nor replied.
Yet that was apparently enough for him.
She heard the crunch of his boots crushing the remnants of familiarity underfoot. Sensing he would soon provoke violence, Ophelia braced herself.
Idren did not disappoint her expectation. He seized her wrist.
“How could you do such a thing!”
He yanked her around, his voice ringing out like a scream.
Ophelia stared into his dilated golden pupils, trembling lips, and deathly pale face—every feature a clear sign of anguish she couldn’t begin to understand.
While she struggled to process what she saw, Idren kept shouting.
“Didn’t we agree to talk again tomorrow! We promised to have one more conversation!”
And yet, how could you—how could you do this the moment I stepped out of the room…?
Idren lowered his head deeply. Something dropped softly between their feet.
Ophelia realized it was a tear sliding down his finely chiseled jaw. Simultaneously, irritation surged through her.
Just what exactly was the problem?
Ophelia shoved the man who’d been clinging to her away. She despised people who piled on uninvited emotions or wallowed alone in their wounded sorrow—and Idren Sigrasil was doing precisely that.
His golden eyes, brimming with moisture, looked down at her. The shock and pain shimmering within them were so vivid that Ophelia felt the urge to hack his heart to pieces.
Idren was tormenting her by thrusting upon her expectations she neither wanted nor had any intention of fulfilling.
It was utterly unfair. She had treated him kindly, patiently explaining why they had to remain strangers.
Yet Idren Sigrasil acted as if he hadn’t heard a single word she’d said.
Ophelia let out a shallow sigh and addressed the man, whose eyes might have seemed pitiful to others.
“I clearly told you there was no need for this.”
“You seriously think… that’s what you should say to me right now?”
Ha. The man gave a disbelieving laugh. Ophelia suppressed the urge to lash out at him. She knew speaking more honestly here would only make things unpredictable—and she was already exhausted. She didn’t want to add the stress of uncertainty on top of everything else.
As she considered the most efficient way to end this situation, he asked:
“Is that really what you say to me?”
Idren truly was beyond belief.
It was absurd that this woman treated him so unreasonably—yet he’d rushed over out of worry for her, making himself look pathetic enough to laugh at.
He’d known she was this kind of woman. Yet, blinded by a moment’s kindness, he’d acted like a fool.
Anger rose within him—at his own ignorance and her cruelty. Idren’s face twisted in frustration.
“Do you even have emotions?”
Ophelia looked at him with her signature icy gaze.
Before Idren could even notice the fury simmering in her blue eyes, she sneered.
“No emotions? Don’t be ridiculous. Isn’t this irritation I’m feeling toward you right now an emotion?”
And Ophelia realized her words had struck him deeply—his face drained of color in an instant.
He stepped back from her without any attempt to mask his injury. His reaction was as if he were looking at someone born wrong from the start—but Ophelia didn’t so much as blink.
Idren seemed even more shocked by her indifference. He stared at her with unsteady eyes and muttered,
“How did I ever come to love a woman like you…?”
Ophelia had never once asked him to love her.
But before she could say anything, he stormed out of the room.
[This is the timeline separator]The moment Idren opened the corridor door, he was met with countless staring eyes.
His stomach churned under that swarm of gazes. As he glared at the onlookers from Reden Palace with an expression of disgust, Penrel approached him.
“Your Highness, what on earth happened…?”
Then the loyal knight seemed to realize how many eyes and ears surrounded them. Penrel fell silent.
Idren clenched his teeth, swallowing the surge of nausea, and pushed through the crowd. The knight followed discreetly behind him as he retraced his steps.
As he strode quickly down the palace corridor, Prince Mahanas approached. The man, who resembled his father more than his sister, wore an anxious expression.
“Are you leaving already? Without speaking to her further…?”
Idren noticed the displeasure etched between the prince’s brows and the forced smile meant to disguise his overall attitude. As expected, it was revolting.
The prince surely knew the condition his sister was in right now.
Yet he didn’t care in the slightest. All he worried about was whether his deal with the other party would be compromised.
Feeling sickened by her family’s attitude toward Ophelia, Idren also realized he’d once again acted like a fool—worrying over such a cruel woman.
If time hadn’t turned back, Idren knew exactly what his fate would have been: left utterly alone, drowning in despair.
He would have endlessly questioned what he’d done wrong.
He knew it was foolish—but he still wouldn’t have been able to stop himself.
Having already endured that pain, Idren now hated the woman who’d so casually tried to push him back into hell.
How could she possibly do this?
It felt as though he’d been punched hard in the gut. To keep himself from accidentally voicing that simmering indignation, Idren stopped walking. He’d learned long ago that reacting when struck only made things worse.
When he halted, both the prince and Penrel stopped as well. Idren realized he was standing in the royal garden, where the scent of spring hung thick in the air. Petals swirled into his field of vision.
Amid that warm, blooming scenery, he pondered what would happen if he simply brushed past the prince. Their engagement with Ophelia would collapse, and Reden would have to return the half of the bride price already paid.
Idren knew Reden would suffer a great blow from this. Perhaps, as Ophelia claimed, the kingdom might even fall.
She’d said that was exactly what she wanted—that it alone would give her everything she desired.
But what would he gain?
And for the first time, Idren felt the urge to obstruct whatever Ophelia set out to do.
Until now, he’d always tried to stand by her side, ready to fulfill every wish she expressed.
Even if it went against his own desires, he’d been willing to sacrifice his share—as long as it made her happy and kept her alive.
Yet Ophelia had shown him not even the barest courtesy. Her immediate attempt to end her life once more proved that beyond doubt.
She did exactly as she pleased.
But was he not allowed to do the same?
In that moment, Idren understood what he needed to do. He turned to Prince Mahanas, who stood beside him with a look of unease.
“I was hasty. Let us return and finish our conversation.”
Male lead reborn without memories — but he still falls for her.
The person he finds displeasing in this life turns out to be his cherished wife-master in previous life…
Xie Zhi and Fang Xianxing who had known each other for less than three days through a blind date sat in the same car in front of the civil affairs bureau. They had a disagreement and failed to get married.
Xie Zhi immediately took out his phone, slid through his contacts, and randomly selected the next marriage candidate.
The woman snatched his phone and hung up. Looking at his phone wallpaper, she awkwardly changed the subject: “An ancient painting, eh? It looks pretty good, it’s just that the person in the painting looks a bit like me.”
When he heard this, he sarcastically mocked her for being so delusional, completely unaware that, the person in front of him was the reincarnation of Wen Ru, the famous prime minister of Yuan Shun whom he most admired…
The female CEO who doesn’t want to get married with a divorce agreement in hand × The male archaeological researcher who will only get married if he’s sure he can get divorced
Cowardice? Bitch you barely even look at him or speak to him 😦😡
Finally! Put her in her place!!! She should treat you better 😡😡😡
That caught him by surprise 😭🥺🤣 that he almost choked