There was a time when she and Jack were deeply in love.

He had held her close and whispered, "Jess, no matter what happens, I will marry you. You'll be the most beautiful bride in the world.

"Jess, what kind of wedding would you like? I'll let you decide.

"Jess, I'll take care of all the housework. And if you're afraid of the pain and don't want to have children, we don't have to. I don't want you to suffer."

The warmth of those words still echoed in her ears.

But now, all of that had collapsed into a single, cold sentence—"The wedding will proceed as planned the day after tomorrow, but the bride will be Abby instead."

How absurd.

It felt as though a massive truck had run over her body, crushing her bones, her lungs, her heart—grinding everything into dust. But after a fleeting moment of suffocating pain, she forced herself to smile.

"Alright, I agree… The bride will be Abby. And on that day, I'll prepare a special gift for the both of you."

Jack hadn't expected her to agree so easily. His face lit up with relief, but somewhere deep inside, an inexplicable unease took root. A vague feeling that something important was slipping away.

But he didn't dwell on it. Instead, he praised her. "I knew you'd be the most understanding, Jess. I have to go now—there's still so much to prepare for the wedding."

She watched him leave.

Her grip on her phone tightened. She wanted to cry. But instead, she tilted her head back and swallowed the tears.

Just then, Abby stepped out of the bedroom. Their parents weren't around, and with no one to witness, her face twisted into its usual arrogance.

Jessica casually tapped the recording button on her phone. This "gift" needed more material, after all.

"So? How do you feel?" Abby smirked. "I'll be the bride in two days. You know, I was only joking this morning when I told Jack that I wanted to be his bride. I just wanted to see how much he cared about me. But guess what? He actually agreed."

She tossed her hair back, savoring the moment. "Of course, it's just a wedding. We won't even register the marriage. But if I wanted to… do you really think he'd refuse me if I asked him to make it official?"

Jessica let out a quiet laugh. "Abby, how is it that you can be a mistress and still act so righteous about it?"

"Mistress?" Abby scoffed. "You two aren't even legally married yet. No wedding, no certificate. And even if you were married, as your older sister, wouldn't it be natural for my dear brother-in-law to take care of me? After all, my health is so fragile."

She paused dramatically, then covered her mouth in mock surprise.

"Oh, wait. I'm not the one who's sick. You are—the one with terminal stomach cancer. You don't have much time left, do you? So why keep clinging to Jack? Just let him go."

She took a step closer. "Actually, Jess, you never should have been born in the first place. Because of you, our family had to split everything—money, attention, affection. You were the extra one. The unnecessary one. Ever since you were born, I've wanted to strangle you."

Each word dripped with venom.

Sometimes, Jessica couldn't help but envy other little sisters. The ones who were cherished, spoiled by their families, and protected by their older siblings.

She had wanted to be a princess too.

A sharp, twisting pain spread through her stomach. She clutched it instinctively.

"What's wrong? Gonna start coughing up blood now?" Abby sneered. "How pitiful. Maybe you should just kill yourself and get it over with."

Jessica wanted to hold on, wanted to make it to the bathroom before anyone saw. But this time, she couldn't.

The taste of blood filled her mouth, thick and overwhelming. Blood surged up her throat, seeping into her nose, her lungs, until she couldn't contain it anymore. It gushed out, spilling onto the floor.

And just at that moment, their parents stepped out of their room.

Jessica lifted her gaze to meet their stunned expressions.

She smiled bitterly.

So much for keeping it a secret.

As her parents walked toward her, Jessica took out the medical report and handed it to them.

"I hadn't planned on telling you," she said. "But now that you've seen it, there's no point in hiding it. I have late-stage stomach cancer."

Until this moment, she had believed—no, hoped—that she was still their daughter, that the news of her illness would stir some kind of sorrow in them. That was how it should be, wasn't it? A parent's heart aching for their child.

But the next second, all of that shattered.

A sharp, brutal kick landed squarely on her stomach, sending her staggering backward. She crashed against the corner of the table, pain shooting up her spine.

She gasped, gripping the edge for support, her eyes widening in disbelief at her father. "You… you…"

Before she could finish, her father slapped her.

"Jessica! Have you become the kind of person who lies through her teeth?" he shouted. "If Abby hadn't warned us beforehand that you bought blood bags to fake your illness, we might have actually believed you! You're nothing but trouble!"

Jessica took a slow, shaky breath.

She pointed at the report, her fingers trembling. She wanted to stay calm, to speak logically, but the pain, the humiliation, and the utter disappointment all crashed over her at once. When she spoke again, her voice broke, raw with emotion.

"You think I'm lying? You think a hospital report can be forged?"

Her father sneered. "Of course it can. These days, anything can be faked."

Something inside her went still.

In that moment, she realized there was no point in arguing. They would never believe her. It was a waste of breath.

So she let out a hollow chuckle. "You're right. I made it all up. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…"

Her mother cut her off. "Enough. Abby's wedding is the day after tomorrow. As her younger sister, you should be helping her, not causing unnecessary drama to steal attention. It's ridiculous."

With a faint smile, she nodded. "Of course. I'll make sure to prepare everything well. And I'll have a very special gift ready for them."

Back in her room, she opened her laptop and checked her sales orders. Another batch had just been purchased. It was enough—enough for a ticket to Paris.

Then she reached out to the wedding emcee.

She would need his cooperation.

But as soon as he heard her request, his answer was swift. "No way. I'm not getting involved in something like this. My job is to host the wedding, not meddle in who the bride is."

"What if I pay you seven thousand?" she asked. "That's more than you'd make hosting multiple weddings, isn't it?"

A long silence followed.

In the end, money won.

"…Fine," the emcee sighed. "I'll do it."

She sent him the files—every piece of evidence she had gathered. Photos, recordings, videos, everything.

'Abby, just wait. Your gift is on its way.'

The next day was the day before Jessica was set to leave for Paris. It was also the day before Jack and Abby's wedding.

That evening, at Abby's request, the four of them gathered for a simple family dinner.

The dishes were all her favorites—seafood and spicy food.

Jessica couldn't eat any of it.

Her illness had made it impossible, reducing her options to plain bread. But even if she weren't sick, she still wouldn't have been able to eat these dishes. Spicy food made her stomach ache. Seafood made her break out in hives.

Yet no one seemed to remember that.

All they remembered were Abby's preferences.

Across the table, Abby clung to Jack's arm, smiling sweetly at him. Their parents sat side by side, looking on with beaming faces.

And Jessica? She had called the waiter over to add an extra chair, turning a four-person table into a table for five.

It was clear she didn't belong here.

But it didn't matter.

This was the last meal. After tonight, she would never see them again.

Abby lifted her glass, her expression touched with what looked like guilt.

"Jess, you don't blame me, do you?" she asked. "But I really, really love Jack. You're so outstanding—you'll definitely find someone even better. So… can you let me have him?"

Jessica smiled. She raised her own glass, filled with nothing but plain water.

"It's fine. You two are perfect for each other. Wishing you a happy marriage."

Yes, perfect. A cheater and a faker— they were meant to be.

Jack's grip on his wine glass tightened. Something about this didn't sit right with him. Why was she taking it so lightly?

"Jess, you'll come to the wedding tomorrow, won't you?"

Jessica's lips curled faintly. "Of course. It'll be a wedding to remember."

Just then, her phone rang. It was Kelly.

She picked up. "Hi, Kelly."

"Jess, have you talked things through with Jack? We're leaving first thing in the morning."

"Don't worry, Kelly. I'll be on time."

She ended the call quickly, wary of letting the conversation drag on.

Jack had caught a few words. His brow furrowed. "What did Kelly say? What's happening tomorrow?"

Jessica waved him off casually. "Nothing, just something about a work contract."

She no longer saw the need to explain anything to him. After all, what was he to her now?

The others finished their meal in high spirits, chatting and laughing.

Jessica ate in silence, each bite tasteless.

That night, back home, she double-checked her luggage. Everything was in place.

She went to bed early.

The next morning, before the sun had risen, she was already up.

She took a slip of paper, wrote two simple words—I'm leaving—and left it behind.

Then she blocked Jack. Blocked Abby. Blocked every last one of them—on her phone, on Telegram, and on every possible means of contact.

Dragging her suitcase behind her, she hailed a taxi to the airport, where she met up with the junior assistant assigned to this company trip.

Goodbye. Goodbye forever.