I decided it was time to pull the plug. I was done playing my part in this game.

Even if her leaving meant meeting the tragic end originally destined for me, I didn't want to keep enduring such fake affection for even a second longer. I was ready to lay my cards on the table and end it once and for all.

But Cheryl insisted we go on a honeymoon. Afraid I might turn her down, she pulled out all the stops, painting a vivid picture of the perfect getaway.

I knew she wanted to use the honeymoon to push her plan forward, hoping that in some romantic moment, my affection level would finally max out so she could punch her ticket home.

Her description of the trip was so beautiful and tempting that I couldn't help indulging in those romantic fantasies again.

"Let the dream last one more month before it all goes dark," I told myself.

Even if it all came to nothing, at least I would have a few more wonderful memories to hold onto.

I clung to the slim chance that maybe, just maybe, she would change her mind.

A month later, she dropped the bombshell that she was pregnant.

It was the last thing I expected. From the moment we got together, she had been adamant about not having children.

She used to pout and say, "I don't want a child stealing your attention. I want you all to myself forever."

I had agreed. As long as I had her, I didn't feel like I was missing out on anything else.

But now, she was telling me she was pregnant.

"Wait," I said, caught off guard. "I thought you were on the pill?"

Her expression changed instantly. "What's that supposed to mean? You don't want this child?"

When she realized the pregnancy still wasn't enough to max out my affection, Cheryl was disappointed. She immediately decided to go to the hospital and terminate it.

However, the doctor warned her that due to her specific physical condition, an abortion would likely ruin her chances of ever conceiving again.

After wavering for a while, she eventually decided to keep the child.

Late that night, I overheard her venting to her System.

"No wonder his own parents don't like him," she hissed. "He's not even a normal human! Aren't men supposed to be obsessed with carrying on their family line? I'm carrying his child, and yet his affection level still won't max out. He's cold and heartless. A total freak!"

"I can't have an abortion. I still need to give Gavin children. Gavin definitely won't blame me. I'm sacrificing myself for our future together."

…

No matter what she thought, the child she carried was mine.

I figured that once the child was born, I would support whatever choice she made. Raising him as a single father was also an option. Anything was better than living alone.

The child was born, and he grew up in what felt like the blink of an eye.

I loved him with everything I had, took care of him, and worked myself to the bone trying to be a qualified father. Unfortunately, the feeling wasn't mutual. Jasper didn't love me either.

He only loved the perfect, "real" daddy Cheryl had told him about in another world.

The food on the table had gone cold. Pulling myself out of my memories, I scraped every dish into the trash, scrubbed the plates clean, and began tidying up the house.

From now on, it would just be me.

Things would unfold the way they had in the original story. I would drop dead from a sudden heart attack in this yard. My body would lie there, forgotten, until the stench drifted down the block and someone finally bothered to check.

But until that day came, I would keep this house in order and live my life as best I could.

I tended to the plants in the yard. The garden bed I had reserved on the east side had always remained empty.

When I first met Cheryl, I wanted to plant a cherry tree there because of her name.

I told her excitedly, "We can admire the cherry blossoms in spring and eat cherries in summer. Wouldn't that be nice?"

But she shut the idea down immediately. "Don't you know how much of a pain cherry trees are to grow?"

"You're so ignorant," she mocked. "A cherry tree takes at least three years to bear fruit. Who has the patience to wait that long just for a handful of cherries?"

It turned out she had been preparing to leave all along. She didn't even have the patience to wait three years.

What she hadn't realized was that it would take nine years—from our first date, through the wedding, to Jasper's fifth birthday—for her to finally complete her mission and leave.

If I had planted that cherry tree back then, it would be covered in blossoms by now.

I headed to the local nursery and bought a cherry tree in full bloom.

The owner gave me his word that it would bear fruit. He said if it wasn't loaded with cherries in three months, I could come back and dig up anything in his nursery.

I took the tree home and planted it in the garden bed that had sat empty for nearly nine years.

My days settled into a steady rhythm: working at the boxing gym, picking up groceries on the way home, cooking, having dinner, and tending to the yard.

Time, surprisingly, flew by.

Three months later, the cherry tree was full of ruby-red fruit.

"You see, Cheryl? You don't have to wait three years to eat cherries. Maybe forgetting you won't take a lifetime either."

I was lost in thought when a cheerful female voice drifted down from above.

"Hey, handsome neighbor! Your cherry tree is growing into my yard!"

I looked up and realized someone new had moved in next door.

A young woman was leaning over the second-floor balcony, a bright smile on her face.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized right away. "I'll come over and trim it in a bit."

She waved her hands. "No, that's not what I meant. I was just wondering, since that branch is in my yard now, am I allowed to eat the cherries?"

I picked a basket of cherries for her, and that was how we got to know each other.

Her name was Beatrix Harper. She was a surgeon.

A few days later, she offered to treat me to dinner.

I figured it wouldn't hurt to say yes. If I really died alone at home someday, at least someone might notice before the body rotted and stank up the whole block. And since she was a doctor, she had probably seen enough bodies not to be squeamish.

Beatrix and I slipped into an easy friendship.

She often came over in the evenings to mooch dinner and help out in the kitchen, claiming she was learning how to cook from me.

One evening, I overheard her teasing her mom on the phone. "I'm learning. I'm learning how to cook with my neighbor. I'll take care of myself. Don't worry, Mom."

She must have a happy family. It was nice to see.

I just hoped that when my time finally came, it wouldn't be too gruesome. I would hate to leave a young woman that bright with any lasting trauma.

Beatrix asked if I was single. I told her I had been married for six years, divorced three months ago, and that my ex-wife had taken our son with her.

She looked stunned, staring at me hesitantly before finally saying, "Kevin, are you pulling my leg? I asked a few of the neighbors about you. They all said you've always been single."

That was when I realized that after the mission was completed, the System might have erased all traces of Cheryl and Jasper ever existing.

I brought Beatrix home and pulled out the family albums to prove that Cheryl and Jasper had truly existed. Only then did I discover that every photo containing the two of them had vanished. There wasn't a single trace left in the house that they had ever been there.

I sat on the sofa in a daze, unable to speak for a long while.

Beatrix watched me with concern. "Kevin, fantasizing about being loved is a symptom of deep-seated depression."

She hesitated, pity in her voice. "I know this might be hard to accept, but your mental state isn't stable right now. You need professional help."

I stopped trying to convince her about Cheryl and Jasper. I had no intention of seeking psychological help either.

I simply told her I was fine, and that if things ever got truly bad, I would consider treatment.

Beatrix didn't press the issue. Still, she kept stopping by for dinner every few days, and occasionally we would head out for a game of badminton.

Just like that, another three months passed.

Then one day, when Beatrix and I returned home together, I saw Cheryl waiting by the gate, holding Jasper's hand.

The moment Jasper saw me, he lunged forward and wrapped his arms around my legs. "Daddy! I missed you so much! They bullied me!"

Cheryl stayed where she was, her eyes fixed intently on Beatrix. "Kevin! Who is she? What is going on between you two?"

I never imagined she and Jasper would actually come back.

What was even more jarring was her audacity. She was acting as if they had never left. She looked exactly like a wife returning home after picking up her son from daycare, only to find her husband cheating on the front lawn.

With a blank expression, I peeled Jasper off me. It was a gesture I knew well. He had brushed my hand away or dodged my hugs countless times before.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice cold and distant. "I don't know you. If you're trying to claim we're related, you've got the wrong person."

Cheryl grew even angrier, her pretty face flushing a furious red. "Kevin! What is that supposed to mean? Are you seriously going to stand there and deny your own wife and son?"

I smiled faintly. "Miss, I've always lived here. All the neighbors know I've always been single. How could I possibly have a wife and son?"