She Cheated, But I Forgot Loving Her Chapter 2

When Liam called again, he was fuming.

"This is too much! She made so many vows and did so many good things to marry you. And it's only been a few years, and she's already bringing a lover into your house!"

I felt a pang of curiosity. "What did she do?"

From Liam's account, it was hard to reconcile this deeply devoted woman with the arch-nemesis I remembered.

He said ten years ago, Seraphina and I had a huge fight over a project and both fell from a rooftop. She only needed stitches, but I broke bones and got an infection, ending up in the ICU. During that month I battled death in the ICU, Seraphina stayed outside my door, her palms raw and bleeding from clenching them, her eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, refusing to leave. She croaked that she'd had a revelation; facing life and death, she realized how much time she'd wasted competing with me all those years. If fate gave her another chance, she would never let go.

I woke up. This woman, always so proud and stubborn, never shedding a tear, publicly sobbed, holding onto me, and no one could pull her away. At the same time, she reined in all her temper, readily giving up the project. From then on, she never interfered with anything related to me. She even picked up a pan, despite never having done housework, just to cook for me and help me recover after surgery, wanting to make sure I was well-fed. Her previous string of rumored boyfriends also disappeared completely.

At the ribbon-cutting ceremony for my new company, she publicly swore that she would only love me for the rest of her life, and any man had to speak to her from at least ten feet away. She even fired people for it; any man who dared to approach her within ten feet was mercilessly dismissed, causing a huge scandal. Everyone knew this unattainable woman had changed her entire demeanor for me, loving me to her very core.

Listening to all this, I felt a strange sense of irony.

All I remembered was that Seraphina and I had been sworn enemies since childhood. If I got first place, she'd pour ink on my textbook; I'd retaliate by tearing up her class notes. During the joint final exams, she deliberately spread rumors about my mother's affair, trying to mess with my head. I, in turn, brought her illegitimate half-sister over and had her call Seraphina "big sis," turning Seraphina's face green with rage.

Things didn't improve after graduation. Any field we entered quickly devolved into a bitter rivalry between us. We briefly became entangled during one of our toxic battles. We'd scream at each other in the office, and then, somehow, one of us would kiss the other, and that kiss would spiral out of control. When I got out of bed, I'd mock her, calling her boring, and she'd calmly retort that I wasn't much of a catch either. But our encounters grew more and more frequent.

She never said "we're together," nor did she mention "love." Only on Valentine's Day would she awkwardly send a single rose, with a card simply inscribed, "To my boyfriend." When she was mad at me, she'd embrace a starlet and passionately kiss them by the fountain, her eyes constantly darting to me. I'd find it amusing, pull a pretty waitress close, wrap my arm around her waist, and enjoy her blushing cheeks, all while listening to the sound of breaking glasses from below.

I never intended to be with Seraphina. I always thought we were like two fierce wild animals, sparking off each other to release tension, but without much real affection between us. So, reverting to the stage where I hated her, and finding out she had a new lover, felt incredibly satisfying.