The Final Exit

"Wayne, when did your legs heal? Why didn’t you tell me?"

His expression froze. He reached out, as if wanting to explain. "I…"

But before he could finish, Elena’s anxious voice rang out from a distance. "Naomi's fainted!" At that, Wayne’s hand stopped midair, and without hesitation, he ran straight toward her.

…

The banquet at the Kinseys' was canceled. Exhausted, I dragged myself home. Once there, I gathered all the things Wayne had given me.

The handmade gifts he crafted when he was pursuing me—now I could see he had only thought I didn’t deserve better. The travel photos he took while in his wheelchair, capturing himself gazing at me with tenderness—back then, I had believed it was love. But staring at my reflection in the mirror now, I finally realized that gaze wasn’t for me at all. It was for the resemblance I bore to Naomi.

Swallowing the ache in my chest, I threw everything into the trash, sweeping away not only the memories but also the love I had once clung to.

By the time I finished, dawn had broken. Wayne still hadn’t come home. Instead, the butler delivered medicine to prevent a cold.

With an awkward smile, he explained, "There was an emergency at the hospital, Mr. Wayne couldn’t leave. But he was worried about you, madam. He thought you might catch a chill after falling into the pool yesterday."

I nodded, drank the bitter medicine, then gestured at the box on the table. "This is for him. Please pass it along."

Though puzzled, the butler didn’t ask questions.

An hour later, after I had finished breakfast, Wayne finally sent me a message. 'Arden, Naomi is your sister-in-law, no matter what. Apologize to her later for what happened last night.'

A second message followed with the location of a restaurant.

'My legs healed today, thanks to your constant care. I booked your favorite restaurant. Let’s celebrate properly tonight.'

I almost had to admire him. Even with his act exposed, he could still put on that same righteous face—all for Naomi’s happiness.

Taking the divorce papers my lawyer had prepared, I set off for the restaurant to wait. But by 6 p.m., Wayne never showed. Instead, a string of messages and a video arrived from Naomi. On the screen, Wayne was tenderly rocking a baby to sleep. 'No need to thank me, Arden. Wayne is very good with children now.'

Moments later, another message arrived. 'Oh, I almost forgot—you can’t have children. But don’t worry. Wayne already signed a will, leaving all his assets to my kids.'

I stared at the inheritance agreement, my heart heavy with bitterness.

Closing the messages, I took a cab to the place where Wayne and I had first met—the same venue where Enzo and I were supposed to be married five years ago. Right then, it was full of lights and laughter, hosting the Kinsey family’s banquet for Naomi.

When I arrived, the family was on stage for a group photo. Naomi and Wayne stood at the center, each holding a child, looking every bit the picture of a perfect family of four.

I stood silently in the crowd, watching that scene. Taking a bite of matcha cake, the sweetness on my tongue turned bitter. Without sparing them another glance, I walked out of the hotel.

Sliding into the car Wayne had once given me with matching license plates, the cold voice of the system filled my head, and dizziness overtook me. "Host, your departure time has arrived. Countdown: three, two, one…"

I closed my eyes. From that moment on, Arden Sharpe no longer existed in this world.

At the same time, Wayne’s call was accidentally connected. A deafening explosion roared through the phone before it clattered to the floor. As his trembling hand reached for it, the butler rushed in, his face pale with panic. "Mr. Wayne, something terrible has happened! Madam… Madam was in a car accident at the gate!"