My Mistress Became My Wife (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 50

Harold let out a soft chuckle at the sight of the gift box adorned with a pretty ribbon.

“It seems a bit too late to give you a gift congratulating you on receiving your earldom.”

“It is a gift, but not one to congratulate you—nor is it from me.”

“Then…?”

“A young lady from a noble house says it’s a gift for someone named Dillon Oppenheimer.”

Dillon Oppenheimer. The moment he heard that name, Harold’s face stiffened instantly. Like an eagle snatching its prey, Harold swiftly seized the gift. His strange reaction was so obvious that Dillon’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Ignoring Dillon’s suspicion, Harold untied the ribbon. It should have been simple—just a quick tug—but his trembling hands made the task take far longer than necessary. Opening the box itself took even longer.

“…….”

Dillon found Harold’s behavior both ridiculous and unsettling. It lent further weight to his hypothesis that Harold harbored feelings for Lily. He wanted to ask outright for confirmation, yet feared hearing the answer so much that he clenched his lips tightly.

Harold lifted the box lid as carefully as if it were a heavy stone or fragile glass, squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then opened them to inspect the contents. Inside lay a handkerchief.

Now that he thought about it, he recalled lending her his handkerchief. Remembering this fact—previously forgotten while preoccupied with other matters—brought a bitter smile to Harold’s lips.

When he’d lent Lily his handkerchief, he’d intended to use it as an excuse to meet her again. It would have been even better if, like during their lakeside stroll, he could receive some token of appreciation in return.

But his plans and hopes had crumbled like a dream on a midsummer night. The sheer impossibility of even entertaining an “if” felt utterly desolate.

Harold let out a deep sigh and pulled the handkerchief from the box. As he did, something small fell to the floor with a soft thud—a letter envelope. The moment he saw it, his previously sunken mood stirred back to life. Harold steadied his slightly racing heart and examined the envelope’s exterior.

Unlike before, when the sender’s name had been omitted, this time it clearly read: [Liliana Benjamin]. And instead of being addressed to [Dillon Oppenheimer], the recipient was unmistakably marked as [Harold Brayden].

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