I had said what I wanted to say. I strode out of the office.

But before I could reach the elevator, the nineteen-year-old version of Agnes suddenly rushed forward and clung to my arm.

"Frank, please… don't. Let's take that watch back, all right? I gave it to you."

Her eyes were rimmed red, yet her voice was hesitant, as though she feared I might be angry.

Looking at her fresh, unadorned face, my heart softened in spite of myself.

"Fine. But this will count as the second chance. Are you sure you want to use it now?"

She nodded firmly, without a moment's hesitation.

I ruffled her hair, then turned back from the elevator and walked once more toward the office.

But when I pushed open the door again, the sight that greeted me made the nineteen-year-old Agnes explode with fury.

Nicholas was holding Agnes in his arms, whispering intimately against her ear.

The moment they saw me enter, the two sprang apart.

"Frank! When did you become so rude? Do you not know you should knock before entering someone else's office?"

I shot her a cool glance and walked straight toward them, bending down. But Nicholas stealthily pressed his foot onto the watch strap, pinning it to the ground.

With no choice, I straightened again.

He lowered his gaze, his tone meek.

"Frank, I was only trying to comfort Agnes. She was so upset. Please don't be angry."

Hearing his feigned humility, Agnes couldn't hold back any longer.

"Just look at yourself, Frank. Look at the way you act. Nicholas is so considerate, yet you keep making things hard for him again and again. Apologize to him."

I ignored her words, fixing my eyes on Nicholas, fighting to hold down the fire raging in my chest.

"Move."

But he pretended not to hear.

"Frank, I really didn't mean anything by it."

Then Agnes's hand shot out, gripping my chin hard.

"Apologize. To Nicholas."

I stared at her furious face, then turned my head slightly toward the nineteen-year-old standing nearby.

She was frozen in place, tears streaming down her cheeks.

The sight made my anger dissolve in an instant. I gazed at her with aching tenderness and muttered, "I'm sorry."

"Oh, Frank, there's no need for that, really. Don't apologize." Nicholas backed away cautiously, but I caught the faint smile curling at the corner of his lips.

I no longer cared what Agnes said. I bent down, picked up the battered watch, and walked out of the office.

On the way out of Marlen Tower, the nineteen-year-old Agnes sobbed uncontrollably, apologizing to me over and over.

I stroked her head gently.

"It's all right, Agnes. You didn't do anything wrong."

Looking at her delicate face, I asked, "Do you know what tomorrow is?"

She blinked at me, dazed, then glanced at the car's display clock. Suddenly her cheeks flushed, and excitement lit her eyes.

"It's the day you're going to propose to me."

Yes. Six years ago, on our one-year anniversary, I made her a promise. No matter if I had money or not, on Valentine's Day six years later, I would propose—by the sea.

"Good girl. Then tomorrow, you'll come with me, won't you?"

I spoke with quiet warmth. Her eyes sparkled like stars, locking onto mine.

At last, as though steeling herself, she whispered a secret.

"Frank, do you know why I could see the future? When you confessed to me, I made a wish on a shooting star… that I could glimpse the future. But I wouldn't remember any of it… not until midnight tomorrow, when I'll recall everything I saw."

The nineteen-year-old version of Agnes shed another tear.

"So tomorrow night… she'll regret it."

Neither of us expected that the twenty-seven-year-old Agnes would truly appear on the beach. She came, but not to keep our promise.

"Frank, you actually followed me here? Are you spying on me? You're pathetic!"

The beach we once chose for my proposal was now covered in roses, with fireworks arranged behind them in a dazzling display.

And at the center of the blossoms stood the twenty-seven-year-old Agnes. Even when she saw me, she did not let go of Nicholas's hand.

"Your three chances are over, Agnes."

I murmured softly, while beside me, the nineteen-year-old Agnes clutched my arm in despair.

"Frank, please don't… Maybe she prepared this for you. Let's go see, all right?"

Her voice trembled on the edge of pleading.

But the twenty-seven-year-old's voice was cold as ice.

"Frank, get over here!"

I turned my head, gave the younger her a gentle look, then stepped forward.

The moment I did, the older her lashed out.

"Frank, what more do you want? You stole Nicholas's watch, and I let that go. Now I arrange a fireworks show by the sea to make it up to him, and you want to ruin it too?"

I shrugged lightly.

"Not at all. I just came to watch the fireworks. If you don't mind, bring me two chairs."

My indifference left her momentarily speechless.

I ignored her after that, leading the tearful nineteen-year-old to the side and sitting down with her. I whispered words of comfort, but her sobs would not stop.

Seeing that I made no further scene, the twenty-seven-year-old finally relaxed. She even clung to Nicholas openly, whispering sweet nothings in his arms.

I felt nothing. I only held the younger Agnes's cold little hand more tightly.

Time slipped into the deep of night.

As Valentine's Day drew to its close, the fireworks bloomed against the sky.

Beneath the cascading light, I drew from my pocket the ring I had prepared long ago. Dropping to one knee, I whispered tenderly to the nineteen-year-old before me, "Agnes, will you marry me?"

She covered her mouth, tears spilling. "You… you'd still marry me?"

"Of course. I will always love the version of you standing before me now."

I looked into her eyes with absolute sincerity, the starlight in them my eternal devotion.

I don't know how long it took before she finally nodded hard and extended her left hand.

"Frank, I will. I will."

Smiling, my heart overflowing with joy, I gently took her hand.

Just as I was about to slip the ring onto her finger…

The clock struck midnight.

The nineteen-year-old Agnes dissolved into countless motes of starlight, vanishing completely before my eyes.

I could no longer hold back my tears.

"Goodbye, my dearest Agnes."

At that moment, Nicholas's voice rang abruptly behind me.

"Agnes, Frank looks so pitiful. Kneeling here all alone—who's he even proposing to? How much happier I am with you by my side."

I turned to see Nicholas, at some point, had brought Agnes to stand behind me. From where she could not see, his face was twisted with mockery.

And yet Agnes herself was weeping, her tears streaming down her face.