After recovering from breast cancer, my fiancé started making excuses to stay out all night.

On my birthday, I finally tracked him down on a yacht where he was joking with his friends.

"I figured once she died, the engagement would be off the table. Who knew she'd be so hard to die.”

"But I've got a brilliant plan—I'll fake my death at the wedding. We can livestream it and watch how this woman who worships me to the core breaks down in tears."

I couldn't help but smile to myself. If Travis Luther could play dead, so could I.

In the end, he was the one who broke down sobbing, begging me not to walk away.

Travis Luther swirled his glass of wine, a smirk playing on his lips.

"I've been playing the devoted boyfriend part for so long. Thought it was finally ending, but turns out she's tougher to kill than I expected."

His voice dripped with impatience.

This Travis was completely unrecognizable from the man who'd prayed at my hospital bedside for my recovery.

"I wish I could trade my life for yours. Please, let's not give up, okay?"

Tears had streamed down his face uncontrollably back then.

He must have forgotten that today was my birthday.

Travis had promised he'd spend every birthday with me, without fail.

When I couldn't reach him today, my first thought was that something had happened to him.

Because until now, I'd trusted Travis completely. There was no way he would forget my birthday.

After searching for hours, someone told me they'd spotted him nearby.

One of Travis's friends poured him another drink, asking cautiously, "So what are you going to do about this engagement? Isn't Elaine Henderson the true love you're really after?"

At the mention of his "true love," Travis's eyes softened with genuine affection.

"If she had just died, problem solved. But she didn't."

Seeing the disgust on his face when he mentioned me, I felt the blood drain from my body.

If he wanted me dead, why had he begged me to stay alive when we first met?

During my breast cancer treatment—the nausea, vomiting, hair loss—when I wanted to give up, Travis held my hand and promised he'd always be by my side.

To motivate me to keep fighting, Travis had dropped to one knee and proposed.

"Sarah, if you'll have me, I want to make it official. Let's spend our lives together, never apart."

So heartfelt... but it was all an act.

The others in the private room mocked me freely, comparing me to the famous actress Elaine Henderson.

Through their sarcasm and jokes, I learned the truth.

"Travis is so dedicated—living the role of devoted boyfriend to a cancer patient just for his beloved Elaine."

"If Travis hadn't documented that woman's ugly illness moments every day, Miss Henderson wouldn't have won Best Actress so quickly."

Despite the summer heat, I felt ice in my bones.

If moments ago my heart had been ripped out, now every organ in my body felt shattered.

I covered my mouth. My legs gave way as I slid down the wall.

Inside the room, Travis spoke coldly.

"Can any of you help me figure out how to get rid of this nuisance?"

He saw me as nothing but an obstacle to his true love, desperate to be free of me.

His friends immediately offered suggestions.

Until one proposed an idea that had everyone eagerly anticipating the outcome.

"I've got the perfect plan—Travis, you fake your death at the wedding. We'll livestream it and watch her break down completely, crying her eyes out!"

After saying this, the person seemed to realize they'd gone too far and stopped talking.

The atmosphere suddenly froze.

Travis's dark eyes revealed nothing.

Everyone fell silent, and the person who'd suggested the plan cautiously asked if Travis was listening.

I waited too, hoping Travis wouldn't kill the last shred of hope I still had for him.

But he simply replied, "Interesting. Let's do it."

Outside the door, my heart plummeted.

My entire body went cold.

—

Travis was, as that person said, my savior.

As if by design, he knew my vulnerabilities, understood my sorrows, and hit me straight in the heart time after time.

He left me defenseless, retreating further and further until he was all I could see or think about.

I thought heaven wanted someone as pitiful as me to find happiness, so he appeared.

But it was all his calculation.

From the very beginning, his approach had ulterior motives.

No wonder he always liked taking photos during my treatment.

I naively thought Travis didn't mind how haggard and pale I looked during treatment, but he was just documenting my illness for Elaine.

So she could get into character more quickly.

He played me like a puppet, watching me beg for life, struggle in pain—all to provide material for the woman he really loved.

Travis, you're truly disgusting.

Aren't you eager to see what I'll do when you die?

How could I possibly live without you?

Not dying for you would dishonor your two years of "devotion" to me.

Well, if Travis can fake his death, so can I.

I cherish my life deeply because it was once something I could only hope for but never reach.

And I want to see Travis's face when he learns I've "died" for him.

Walking into my room, I took out the diary Travis had given me.

I remembered how he'd knelt before me so reverently, holding my hand.

"If I ever treat you badly, write it down here. For each entry, I'll punish myself once."

"Sarah, I've chosen you for life."

When he spoke, he was so convincingly sincere.

Travis is probably a better actor than Elaine—so dedicated even with an audience of one.

Picking up a pen, I wrote:

[Today's my birthday. Travis disappeared. He promised he'd never miss any of my birthdays, so I worried something had happened to him. I spent seven hours looking for him. Birthday wish: May Travis be safe and well every year.]

Travis came home at four in the morning.

He tiptoed into the bedroom, tucked my blanket around me, then left the room.

I opened my eyes, which had cried themselves dry for him.

He must have seen the cake on the living room table and his favorite dishes on the dining table.

I was strategically using a man's guilt.

Not to win him back.

But for revenge.

Travis put on an apron and made breakfast.

"Sleepyhead, time to get up and eat."

He pinched my cheek and placed breakfast in front of me.

"It's my fault. I got caught up in work yesterday and forgot. Don't worry, until we're married, I'll stay by your side every step of the way."

I smiled faintly, appearing normal.

But as I ate, I asked, "And after we're married?"

Travis was clearly caught off guard.

I caught the flash of guilt in his eyes.

He stroked my head.

"Silly, I'll always be by your side."

—

Travis, I'll never believe another promise from your lips.

But I didn't say this out loud.

Whether my world includes Travis or not, I live for myself.

I studied fashion design in college—it had always been my dream.

I'd won the Young Designer Award and had job offers lined up.

But breast cancer treatment turned everything to dust.

Now I plan to return to design.

Travis might be waiting to see me cry for him, so he moved up the wedding date.

He took me to look at wedding dresses.

Staring at the dazzling array of gowns, I once thought marrying for love, wearing a dress I designed myself, would make me truly happy.

But that was too much of a luxury now.

At this point, the dress didn't matter—after all, I was marrying Travis.

Meanwhile, Travis fussed over everything, taking forever to choose.

"This one looks good, but it's too revealing. Do you like a train? The sleeves on this one are too big, you wouldn't like it. Bring out all your haute couture pieces..."

"Sarah, what should I wear? How about this one?"

The way he was putting effort into the wedding, you'd think he genuinely wanted to marry me.

"You look handsome in anything," I said, both dismissive and truthful.

Perhaps noticing my low spirits, he turned to look at me.

"Are you nervous about getting married? Don't worry, pre-wedding anxiety is normal. I'll be with you through it."

Just as Travis finished speaking, a woman walked in.

She gazed at Travis with longing, her wavy blonde hair cascading down to her waist.

I loved long hair too, but mine had only grown to my shoulders.

The atmosphere turned strange, with Travis constantly checking my reaction.

"Travis, why didn't you tell me about getting married? Don't you even have the courage to tell me yourself that you're marrying someone else?"

Elaine looked quite hurt, and Travis couldn't bear to see her pain.

"Elaine, why are you here? It's windy today, and aren't you running a fever?"

Travis took off his jacket and draped it over Elaine's shoulders.

Terrified the wind might knock over the love of his life.

"It's just a fever. What could be more painful than finding out the man you love is marrying someone else?"

At this moment, Travis suddenly remembered me.

He held Elaine's hand tightly, reluctant to let go, and said to me, "Sarah, keep looking at dresses. She's upset, so I'll take her home and be right back to help you."

Travis didn't even wait for my response before grabbing Elaine's hand and leaving.

He was just informing me, not asking.

Travis rushed back just as the bridal shop was closing.

By then, I'd already chosen a dress.

Travis asked me, "Don't you dislike this style?"

I replied flatly, "It's just for one day. If I don't like it, I can return it."

I wasn't just talking about the dress.

Travis held my hand and apologized.

"She's my ex-girlfriend. I was worried she might say something to make you misunderstand, so I took her aside to resolve things. Don't be angry.

"Sarah, no matter what I do, you're the one I'm marrying. I want to give you security through marriage."

I smiled and nodded.

Travis finally relaxed and continued choosing his wedding attire.

He took his time, being meticulous.

As if he really wanted to build a life together.

But if he hadn't said, "If she had just died, problem solved. But she didn't."

I might have believed him.

Maybe he saved me at first, but he used my pain to get what he wanted.

So we're even now.

He deceived my feelings and played with my dignity, so my revenge is perfectly justified.