He once said, "Jessica, I don't ask for you to see me. I only hope that from now on, you can live freely, following your heart."

How ridiculous it was.

I cleared my heart, making room for Christopher.

I fell deeper and deeper in love.

I started fantasizing about our sweet future together.

But all I did was give him the perfect opportunity to carve wounds into my heart, one slice at a time, leaving me bloodied.

The pain was unbearable, like a slow, agonizing execution.

My emotions tugged at me, and my eyes burned with uncontrollable pain.

A tear slipped down, and I wiped it away immediately.

Inside, the conversation continued, voices throwing out ideas for his revenge.

"If you want to get back at a woman, the best way is to let her experience the peak of happiness—only to shove her straight into the abyss. Wouldn't that be more entertaining?"

"Exactly. Mr. Sanders, you should go back. Go with her to pick out a wedding gown, send out invitations together, and act like everything is perfect. Then, on the wedding day, leave her humiliated and alone at the altar. I'd bet anything, Jessica would lose her mind."

The room was filled with sickening laughter.

I swallowed my nausea and waited for Christopher's response.

I desperately wanted to hear him say, "Don't joke about that. I love Jessica."

Or at least tell them that this was too cruel a joke to pull on a woman.

But after a long silence, I heard his calm steady reply.

"Hm… Not a bad idea. Let's do that."

A wave of rage crashed down on me, suffocating me.

I let out a hollow chuckle, but my tears wouldn't stop running.

So, he wanted to play games with me? Fine, I'd play along.

I'd love to see his face on the wedding day when he realized I was the one who disappeared instead.

…

I erased all traces of my trip to Louville and returned to our wedding home.

I took out every gift he had ever given me and destroyed them one by one.

It was a strange feeling. I wasn't thinking about anything, but the tears kept falling anyway.

I once heard someone say that heartbreak was like arthritis, where you would feel fine during the day, but at night, when the cold crept in, the gnawing aches would follow.

Perhaps these were just my withdrawal symptoms.

I stood up and laid out the custom-made wedding gown on the floor.

Without a trace of emotion, I took a pair of scissors and cut through the fabric.

It was a reminder to myself about love. Once a crack appeared, no matter how hard you try to fix it, it would never be the same again.

After packing everything away, I placed them in the study. Christopher rarely went there anyway.

Lying in bed, unable to sleep, I scrolled through short videos when a recommendation popped up—someone I might know.

It was a video from someone with the ID: I Love Chris.

Something compelled me to click on it.

It was a girl's video diary about secretly loving a man.

The latest post showed her location in Louville.

The caption read, "The man I've loved for ten years is getting married next month. I want to be brave and confess. Wish me luck!"

In the thumbnail she posted, I saw a familiar hand—a hand wearing a wedding ring on the ring finger.

It belonged to Christopher.

…

I never got a message from him, but I did get a call from Hugh.

"Guess who I ran into in Louville?"

"Hugh, I don't care. Stop using different numbers to call me."

I was about to hang up when I heard the smugness in his voice.

"Jessica, do you really not know why Christopher disappeared for so long? He doesn't want to marry you. He hates that you used to pursue me with such fervor. The only reason he got close to you was to get revenge on me. He was never someone you could trust."

"What exactly are you trying to say?" I was getting impatient.

"Jessica, at least I can say this—aside from the ten years of your pursuit, there has never been another woman in my life."

I sat up and raised my voice. "Hugh, you're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

I continued, "Five years have passed, and you're still so eager to put a wedge between me and him. But let me tell you—no matter what happens, this was my choice. I made my decision, and I'll take my loss. I won't look back."

Hugh went quiet for a moment before saying something completely unrelated, "I sent you something. You'll want to see it."

After he hung up, a video popped up on my phone.

Under the dim lighting, a girl stood face-to-face with Christopher.

He exhaled a cloud of smoke, his expression as indifferent as ever.

Amidst the teasing and laughter in the background, the girl stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

More importantly, he didn't move away.

The video ended there.

I opened the girl's social media account.

Lo and behold, she had just updated her status. "How is this not a success?"

The attached photo was of them kissing.

Nausea churned in my stomach. I ran to the bathroom and dry-heaved over the toilet for a long time, only to realize I hadn't eaten all day. There was nothing to throw up.

Pain gripped my stomach, cramping so badly I could barely breathe.

I forced myself back to bed, curling into a ball.

Suddenly, a memory resurfaced.

…

When Christopher and I had just started dating, I had once wanted to see the stars from the mountaintop in the middle of the night.

He didn't ask a single question. He indulged my whim and drove me there overnight.

The air was cool, and he wrapped me in his arms, his warmth seeping into me.

With the moonlight casting a soft glow, he leaned in and asked cautiously, "The night is beautiful. Jessica, can I… kiss you?"

…

Unfortunately, there was no going back now.

Half-asleep, I was suddenly jolted awake by noises from the living room.

Cold sweat broke out on my back, but I had no strength to get up.

The next second, the bedroom light flicked on.

The harsh brightness made it impossible to open my eyes.

Then I heard his panicked voice.

"Jess! What's wrong?"

…

At 7:00 am, I woke up in the hospital.

Christopher was by my side, holding my hand, looking exhausted—like he had stayed up all night.

He stood up to pour me some water. "I wasn't around for a few days, and you just stopped taking care of yourself? You've always had a weak stomach—are you trying to kill yourself?"

He was reprimanding me.

Just how ridiculous could he be?

For the past week, I had barely eaten or slept, losing five pounds.

I had thought maybe he had gotten into trouble in the business world—that someone had kidnapped him.

I had been terrified and sleepless, crying into my pillow every night.

Meanwhile, he had been living it up somewhere else, kissing another girl without a care in the world.

"Are you giving me the silent treatment?" Christopher smirked, pinching my cheek. "You know I'll punish you for this, right?"

"Alright, get up and eat something. I made some oatmeal for you. I hadn't slept all night," he added.

He acted as if nothing had happened.

Helping me sit up, he scooped a spoonful of oatmeal and fed me patiently.

More than once, I wanted to confront him and ask, "Christopher, aren't you tired of acting?"

Or perhaps I should just tell him that I overheard their conversation, and if he didn't want to marry me, we could just cancel the wedding. It was not like we had registered yet anyway.

However, I swallowed the words.

I wanted to understand why he was doing this to me after all these years of loving me.

Was it just because I once loved someone else? Did that mean that I didn't deserve love now?

"Jess, why are you crying?"

He put the bowl down and quickly wiped my tears. "There, there. I'm sorry, I was wrong."

I lowered my gaze and closed my eyes, but I still ended up in Christopher's embrace.

He gently stroked my back and said softly, "Darling, I'm sorry for making you worry."

He then continued explaining, "I just got overwhelmed. Knowing I'm about to marry you—it felt too good to be true. I was scared it was all a dream. I just needed some time to clear my head. I should have told you sooner. Will you forgive me?"

Lies. It was all lies.

"There are only 20 days left until our wedding. I'll stay home with you during this time and make sure you become the most beautiful bride, okay?"

"Unfortunately, there's no future for us," I thought to myself.

He wiped away my tears with his fingertips.

When those alluring eyes locked onto you, they made you believe he was deeply in love.

"I'm going out for a smoke. You'll be discharged soon."

Maybe Christopher trusted me too much, or perhaps he didn't care whether I overthought things. After all, he was just following his friend's advice, putting on an act of devotion.

So, I picked up his phone, which kept buzzing with notifications.

The password was my birthday.

I had always known it, but I had never checked before.

I unlocked the phone smoothly and noticed a young woman saved as "Peach Blossom" had sent him a flood of messages.

They had only added each other yesterday.

"Chris, you went back so late. Remember to get some rest, okay?"

"I heard you're getting married. Can you send me an invitation? I want to share in your happiness too!"

"I saw you holding your stomach when you got off the plane. Are you feeling unwell?"

"I made you some oatmeal. It's good for your stomach. Don't you think I deserve some praise?"

He hadn't replied to all her messages, except for the last one.

"Send it to this address."

I turned my head and looked at the pink thermos on the table.

Nausea washed over me once more.

The girl continued messaging him.

"Are you sick? Are you okay? I can stay at the hospital with you."

"If you finish the oatmeal, I can make more."

"Take care of yourself, Chris."

"I sat in the lobby all night. My legs are numb. My stomach hurts from my period."

…

I closed the messages, marked them as unread, and got out of bed.

In the lobby, I saw them—Christopher and that same girl from yesterday.

I stood still, watching them laugh and chat through the crowd.

She gestured animatedly, her ponytail bouncing.

At one point, she pouted and touched her stomach, and Christopher reached out and ruffled her hair.

For a split second, I felt like an outsider, sneaking a peek at something I had no right to see.

From last night's kiss to today's affectionate gestures… It was clear that Christopher liked her.

And why wouldn't he?

Who wouldn't like someone who quietly cared for them, never asked for anything in return, and had eyes only for them?

I let out a self-deprecating laugh.

Turning away, I headed toward the corner—only to run into Hugh.

He stepped out of the shadows, his gaze dark as he stared toward Christopher. "Is this the opponent you chose for me?"

I met his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Jessica, why did you stop pursuing me?"

I found his question absurd.

I had pursued him for a decade. Was that not enough?

Ever since I stopped, he had gone out of his way to remind me of his presence.

Maybe he never liked me, and just like Christopher, he just didn't like losing.

"And you're still going through with the wedding?" Hugh asked.

My lips twitched. "Mind your own business. I gave up on you a long time ago. I really, truly, don't want to see you anymore."

I brushed past him.

"Does it not bother you even if he had someone else?" he called after me.

Of course, it bothered me.

I placed a hand on my chest, trying to soothe the pain.

However, I knew that one day, it would stop hurting.

Just 20 more days. I had to endure it.

On the way home with Christopher, I casually mentioned, "I accidentally ruined the wedding gown. Do you think that's a bad omen?"

I watched his reaction closely.

He only frowned slightly before turning to hold my hand, smiling at me with the same tender look as always.

"Then we'll go pick out a new one tomorrow, okay?"