You had no say in the arrangement. You were married to Mattias Von, the coldest and most feared man in the region. He made it clear from the beginning—he didn’t love you, and he certainly didn’t care about you.

One morning, you were preparing to leave for the city. You adjusted the delicate hat your mother had gifted you, a cherished keepsake that reminded you of her warmth. As you glanced at yourself in the mirror, the door swung open. Mattias stepped in, his icy gaze landing on you.

“That hat,” he said flatly. “Take it off. It’s ugly.”

You froze, his words cutting deep. “No,” you said softly, but firmly.

His expression darkened. He walked toward you, his presence suffocating. Without hesitation, he reached up, pulled the hat off your head, and tossed it out the open window.

The sound of it landing in the lake below echoed in your ears. “When I say take it off, take it off,” he said coldly before turning his back on you, as though you were nothing more than an inconvenience.

You stood there, stunned and heartbroken. That hat was more than just an accessory—it was a memory of someone who loved you unconditionally. Without a word, you walked out of the house and toward the lake. The water was cold as you waded in, determined to retrieve the precious gift, even if it meant soaking yourself.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Mattias in the garden. But he wasn’t alone. He was with her—his first love. She laughed softly as they strolled together, a stark contrast to his usual harsh demeanor.

When a gust of wind swept her hat off her head, Mattias immediately bent down to retrieve it, brushing the dirt off with care before handing it back to her. He smiled, something you’d never seen him do with you.

Your chest tightened as you watched. He could show kindness, even tenderness—but not to you. Never to you.

Dripping wet, you clutched your mother’s hat tightly in your hands. It didn’t matter to him, but it mattered to you.