You Are Gentle, But You Don’t Love Me - Chapter 48

In the chapel courtyard, beneath the blue moonlit shadows, Juliet and Romeo crouched side by side on the wild grass—just as they had often done in their childhood.

“Aren’t you hot?”

The soft night breeze was pleasant enough, but the summer air refused to cool so easily.

Yet, Romeo had buttoned his shirt neatly up to his collar. His vest was fastened properly around him, and the belt securing it was so tight it almost looked stifling. It was the complete opposite of Cassio, who always wore his clothes carelessly draped.

“I’m fine. It’s a bit warm, but…”

Romeo had always been like that. No matter how hot the weather was, he maintained a perfectly neat appearance.

It wasn’t to impress anyone—it was simply what made him comfortable. Thanks to that, whether in summer or winter, he was always impeccably put together.

“Julie—no, should I call you the Duchess of Escalus now?”

“That’s… enough. Please don’t.”

“Oh, am I allowed to?”

Even after all these years, Romeo was the same. His golden hair, slightly darker than Rosalyn’s, his warm brown eyes, and the neatly tied blue satin ribbon securing his hair.

The same deep blue as Rosalyn’s eyes.

“Rosie still calls me that.”

“……”

The night breeze made the ribbon tied around Romeo’s hair flutter lightly.

Romeo Arborea had started growing his hair out when he was around fourteen. It was because Rosalyn had once mentioned that the knights in fairy tales looked handsome with long hair.

And when he turned sixteen, he began tying his smooth locks with a blue ribbon. Since then, he had never once used a ribbon of a different color.

‘Was I truly such a fool…?’

She had seen it all with her own eyes, yet she had believed that Romeo would ultimately be hers.

Now that she had let go of most of her resentment, her past self seemed utterly foolish. Foolish, naive, and selfish—Juliet Calliari.

How had she ever assumed, so naturally, that he was hers?

Perhaps she had only wanted to believe it. Because she had loved him.

“I thought you’d be with Rosie right now. Why are you out here alone?”

“Well… What about you? What brings you here?”

Romeo hesitated for quite some time before deliberately changing the subject.

Had he and Rosalyn gotten into a big fight? Or perhaps he had just learned that they were expecting a child, and it left him feeling overwhelmed?

Maybe he had come here to pray.

She could have asked, but instead, Juliet simply followed his lead.

“I was just taking a walk.”

“In the dark like this?”

“I’m too old to be afraid of the dark.”

“To me, you still seem like you’re twelve.”

“I’m twenty-two.”

Their idle conversation drifted in the air—how time had flown since she was a little girl, how he hadn’t changed even after becoming a marquis.

‘It’s been so long… since I’ve had a conversation like this.’

Chatting about trivial things, reminiscing about the past.

And just as the thought crossed her mind, Romeo murmured,

“It’s been so long… since we’ve done this.”

“……”

It suddenly hit her—she was talking to Romeo Arborea.

For as long as she could remember, they had always understood each other best.

Their thoughts ran in the same direction, at the same pace. Compared to Rosalyn—who was unpredictable, impulsive, and impossible to pin down—Romeo had always been the person Juliet felt most at ease with.

Perhaps even now.

“…I heard about it.”

“Heard what?”

“That you suffered a lot… because of me.”

Maybe that was why, even when he suddenly brought up the past, Juliet wasn’t particularly surprised or embarrassed.

Instead, she felt strangely calm.

Perhaps because Romeo, seated beside her, was visibly restless.

“I regretted it a lot after hearing about it. That’s when I realized… I was an absolute bastard.”

“You weren’t a bastard.”

“If I wasn’t, then what was I?”

He hugged his knees tightly.

Even now, despite being a grown man, he still curled up like that whenever he was nervous or uneasy.

“I should have considered your feelings more.”

“Why, because I was your fiancée?”

“Ah… yeah. I really was a bastard.”

“I said you weren’t.”

Juliet just… laughed.

For some reason, the situation itself was amusing.

Sitting side by side with her former fiancé—who was now her sister’s husband—talking about whether or not he had been a terrible person.

“But that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what?”

“I knew that you liked me.”

Ah.

That… she hadn’t expected.

But looking back, maybe there had been signs.

Hadn’t Romeo stopped calling her by her childhood nickname at some point? While giving Rosalyn a special one that only he used?

“So… I knew, but I still acted that way. I’m sorry. Back then, I was just… Well, I really was a bastard.”

“…Yeah, a little.”

“But looking back now, I should never have done that. I should have made things clear. At the very least, I should have told you when Rosie came up with that ridiculous plan.”

“What plan? The marriage?”

“……”

His silence was answer enough.

So the scandal that had once turned all of Sardinia upside down—the dramatic elopement of two young lovers—had, in the end, been Rosalyn’s idea all along.

‘I had suspected as much, but to think it was actually planned. Not a mistake, but a deliberate choice…’

In the chapel courtyard, beneath the deep blue moonlit shadows, Juliet and Romeo sat crouched on the wild grass—just as they often had in their childhood.

For a moment, a lump rose in Juliet’s throat.

But she quickly calmed herself.

It was already in the past.

“…Yes. It would have been better if you had told me back then.”

If he had, maybe she could have buried her feelings without a second thought and genuinely wished them happiness.

No—she was certain she would have.

“I’ve thought about that often too.”

“But if I had, you would have tried to help us.”

“……”

“At the time, I thought that would be even crueler to you… But I was wrong.”

“Romeo.”

“The fact that we never relied on you at all—that’s what hurt you the most, wasn’t it?”

Of course, Romeo was still Romeo.

The person who understood her better than anyone else.

“Hey, Roro… No, Romeo Arborea.”

That was why she had liked him.

Because she felt at ease with him.

She had liked the way he hesitated, unable to make quick decisions, just like her. She had thought they were alike—both of them always overthinking, always lost in their own thoughts.

She had liked how he remained impeccably dressed no matter the season. How his warm voice soothed her whenever she was frightened for no real reason.

His dark golden hair, tied back to his shoulders. The way he would go to such lengths over just a few words from the person he loved.

Romeo Arborea.

“I loved you.”

“……”

She truly had. She had loved him.

From a time so long ago that she could barely remember, through every beautiful and terrible moment.

“But not anymore.”

Because, as she had said—it was already in the past.

“I don’t love you anymore. At least, not in that way.”

The memory of the innocent love she had held in her youth had long since faded.

What remained was nothing more than an old longing and a wistful regret.

“Of course, there were times when it was hard. I did a lot of foolish things because of it.”

She had locked herself away, unable to bear the sharp pain in her heart.

Like a flower wilting inside a glass case, she had wished only to wither away alone.

Even as she pushed everyone away with her own hands, she had suffocated in loneliness.

“But I’m okay now.”

That, too, had long passed.

“I really am.”

Juliet no longer lived clinging to the past.

She no longer wandered through life like a ghost, endlessly reliving old memories.

She no longer wished for time to simply pass until she faded away unnoticed.

‘If anything, it’s the opposite.’

Every day, she felt excited like a fool, only to come crashing down moments later.

A single kind word could make her blush and leave her flustered, only for shapeless fears to creep back in, making her anxious all over again.

She was afraid that the person she loved was avoiding her. That he didn’t want her feelings.

When those thoughts overtook her, it felt as though she was being pulled into the depths of the ocean.

Like sinking into the deep, her vision darkened completely.

But even at the bottom of the sea, she still dreamed.

Secretly, she allowed herself to hope for the days ahead.

She imagined a future where the people she loved remained by her side.

Rosalyn, Romeo.

And perhaps… Cassio Bellanea, too.

‘Though I don’t know if that’s possible.’

But looking back now, weren’t even those fears a luxury?

Wasn’t it better to be swept away by emotions, to dream without sleeping, than to live like a dead thing while still breathing?

There were days of anxiety, of sadness.

Sometimes, even anger.

Like the ocean’s waves rising and crashing, like the foamy surf dissolving, like the occasional storm.

And yet, it was beautiful.

‘Ah, so this is what it means.’

Words shattered and spilled, drenching entire days in emotion.

Hearts overflowed like waves surging after a storm, washing over everything.

Each day painted in a different hue, dazzling in its brilliance.

And so, she loved it.

‘This is what it means to be alive.’

Cassio Bellanea could send her spiraling with just a single word, a fleeting gesture, a mere glance.

Love.

Like the sea, boundless and deep.

‘This is what it means to love.’

And Juliet was glad—glad to have loved someone like him.

Because of Cassio Bellanea, she carried the sea within her heart.