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.

I wrote in my diary:

[Today a woman called him Travis in that special way. I felt a bit jealous, but Travis was honest with me. I forgive him and I'm looking forward to our wedding.]

—

That night, Travis's phone kept ringing while he was in the shower.

"Sarah, can you answer my phone?"

I picked it up to see Elaine Henderson calling.

Without hesitation, I answered.

Elaine's voice came through, “I’ve been thinking, and you made a good point today. If you truly loved her, you wouldn't fake your death at the wedding."

"Travis, can I come to the wedding to watch this little show of yours?"

My hand trembled, and the phone slipped to the floor.

"Sarah, who was that?" Travis called out loudly.

Elaine must have heard him and realized I had answered. She hung up immediately.

When Travis came out and saw my hurt expression, he knew something was wrong.

Guilty, he checked the call history and saw it was Elaine.

"Sarah, don't misunderstand. There's nothing between us, I swear. I'll block her right now."

He proceeded to add Elaine to his blacklist.

When he tried to take my hand, I pulled away.

Travis looked wounded.

He handed me his phone, "From now on, you can check my phone anytime. I'll never keep secrets from you."

"Travis, Elaine said—"

Travis cut me off at the mention of her name, "Don't believe anything she says. She's just trying to drive a wedge between us."

I looked him in the eyes, "Elaine said you're planning to leave me at the altar."

The moment I said it, Travis froze.

His hand holding mine trembled slightly as he tried to avoid my gaze.

Then he looked up with determination.

"That's not true, Sarah. I really want to marry you."

He gazed at me with eyes like the first time we met, seemingly filled with a galaxy of stars.

Travis, why can't you just admit you're playing me?

I have no value to Travis anymore.

Yet he still chooses to humiliate and hurt me when leaving, just to satisfy his twisted sense of fun.

That night, I took out my diary and wrote:

[Elaine called Travis and said he's planning to fake his death at our wedding. She wants to come watch the spectacle. I'm sad, but I believe Travis would never do something so hurtful. He's a good person!]

After putting away the diary, Travis embraced me from behind.

He pressed against my neck, his breath heavy.

"Sarah, let's..."

Every touch from him made me feel sick to my stomach.

"Travis, it's not a good time for me today."

He wrapped his arms around my waist but didn't push further, just leaning against me.

"Okay. Don't leave me. Just stay by my side like this, will you?"

I once wanted to stay with him forever, but he destroyed that future with his own hands.

Since the wedding was approaching, Travis and I started living separately.

This made it easier for me to prepare for Milan.

Just a few days ago, I passed an online interview, submitted my design drafts, and received an invitation from a Milan design company.

On our wedding day, during their livestream, I would fake my suicide out of love for him—then head straight to Milan.

Let the farce between Travis and me end with such an absurd finale.

—

But the night before the wedding, I went to Travis's bachelor party.