Scalding soup splashed onto Zoe’s hand. The pain was instant—blisters bubbled across her pale skin, and she gasped, tears springing to her eyes. “I just…”

Dylan glanced at her injury, but his eyes barely lingered before he let out a cold, mocking laugh.

“Just what? Zoe, are you seriously this pathetic? After all these years, I’ve only ever treated you like a sister, and you went and drugged me to get into my bed?!”

His words struck like a whip.

“I’m telling you right now—I’d rather die than marry you. And that thing you're carrying? Get rid of it.

“You hurt Jenny. I’m going to make damn sure you suffer too.”

Every word landed like a blade, slicing straight through her. Zoe clenched her fists so hard her nails broke the skin in her palm. Blood welled up, but she didn’t feel it. All she felt was the past crashing back like a tidal wave.

She and Dylan had grown up together. After her parents passed away, the Xanders took her in, and from that point on, they were raised like siblings—half-related by circumstance, not by blood.

In her memories, Dylan had always been distant, proud, the kind of person who kept his emotions under lock and key.

And yet, even someone like him could fall to his knees for love.

Jenny Adams—his first love—was an intern at Xander Corporation. At the company’s annual gala, Dylan fell for her at first sight. After that, he chased her relentlessly.

Their back-and-forth dragged on for two years before they finally got together.

Zoe remembered the day they announced their relationship. She cried the entire night.

By morning, she had made up her mind to bury her feelings for him forever. She would keep her love silent and wish him well.

But fate had other plans.

At a party not long after, someone drugged Dylan’s drink. In his haze, he mistook Zoe for Jenny and forced himself on her.

When he came to the next day, he was terrifying.

All his usual restraint vanished. His eyes were bloodshot with fury.

“Zoe, are you really that desperate?!

“You knew I didn’t love you, so you drugged me?!”

After the anger came the breakdown. He curled up on the floor and sobbed like a child.

“Jenny… how could I betray you…”

But the truth was—Zoe hadn’t drugged him.

No matter how many times she tried to explain, he refused to believe her. From that day forward, he hated her.

“Zoe, what—cat got your tongue?!”

Her voice was barely a whisper, almost lost to the wind.

“I already scheduled the procedure.”

Dylan froze for a beat, thrown off by how calm she sounded.

Then he let out a sharp laugh. “So now you’re playing the sympathy card? Very clever. Got my parents wrapped around your little finger.

“But so what? Without love, marriage is just a piece of paper.”

“I’m serious. I’ve already talked to your parents, so they won't force you to marry me any more,” Zoe said quietly. Her eyes lingered on Dylan’s face, as if memorizing it.

“Once the baby’s gone, we’ll pretend none of this ever happened.”

Silence fell between them.

Dylan stared at her, jaw tight, saying nothing.

After a long pause, he finally snapped, “You better mean it.”

Before she could respond, Dylan’s phone rang. He answered, and whatever he heard made his expression shift instantly. Without another word, he ran out into the snow, not even stopping to grab his coat.

Zoe watched his figure vanish into the swirling white.

She knew exactly where he was going.

Jenny.

Biting back the ache in her chest, she quietly cleaned up the mess and hailed a cab to the hospital.

As she looked out the window at the falling snow, she let out a long breath.

In her past life, she had planned to volunteer in a remote school, and everything had already been arranged. But in the end, she stayed behind and married Dylan instead.

Now that life had given her a second chance, she chose to cut off this toxic bond and set everyone free.

In seven days, she and Dylan would part ways for good—never to cross paths again.

Zoe sat quietly in the hospital corridor, her hand resting lightly on her stomach. Her eyes stung with tears she tried not to shed.

In her past life, during the years she was hopelessly in love with Dylan, she had imagined countless times what it would be like to walk down the aisle with him.

Later, after their son was born, she often felt guilty—guilty for not giving him a home filled with love.

But even after years of raising him, her son grew up to be just like his father—cold, distant, and in the end, he too turned into a knife that cut straight into her heart.

This time, she wouldn’t give him the chance to be born.

Just then, a sweet, overly familiar voice broke through the quiet hallway.

“Oh come on, Dylan! You’re totally overreacting. It’s just a little burn from the steam, that’s all. The doctor said I could’ve just rinsed it with cold water at home, but you dragged me all the way here. Now everyone’s looking at me like I’m ridiculous.”

Zoe looked up instinctively, her whole body tensing.

Jenny and Dylan were walking down the hallway, hand in hand. Their fingers were tightly laced together, their bodies close, their affection unmistakable.

Dylan leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips, his gaze soft and full of warmth.

“This hospital belongs to my family. Let them laugh—I couldn’t care less,” he said softly. “Besides, I worked hard to get your hands this soft and pretty. Even a tiny scratch makes me worry.”

Jenny’s cheeks flushed pink. She playfully swatted his chest. “We’re in public—at a hospital, no less. Can you not?”

Dylan caught her hand and kissed it, his smile deep and full of charm. “You have no idea how much I’m holding back.”

Zoe watched the smile on his face, stunned for a moment—then the pain hit her like a blade.

In her past life, Dylan hadn’t smiled once after Jenny died.

He had fallen into a deep depression, wasting away day by day until he gave up entirely.

The man who had once been bright and proud had become a hollow shell of himself.

To stop him from taking his own life, the family had sealed every window in the house. No sharp objects, no medication, nothing remotely dangerous was allowed near him. The place was more prison than home.

But even so, Dylan managed to file down a toothbrush into a sharp point, planning to stab himself in the heart.

Zoe had caught him just in time.

In a panic, she tried to stop him, reaching out blindly. But in that crucial moment, Dylan threw out his hand to shield her instead.

The sharpened toothbrush went straight through his palm. Blood poured everywhere.

But he didn’t even flinch. He didn’t seem to feel pain at all. Instead, he broke down completely, shouting through his tears:

“Why?! Why won’t you just let me die?! Jenny’s down there all alone—I need to be with her! Get out of my way!”

Zoe had sobbed as she begged him, “Dylan, please, wake up! Jenny’s been gone for years. Can’t you let yourself go? Just once?”

Dylan had gone quiet.

After a long pause, his red-rimmed eyes stared at her, empty and bitter.

“You’re the one who won’t let me go.”

His hand never fully recovered after that. It was permanently damaged, unable to carry anything heavy again.

But strangely, after that day, he seemed to return to normal and started living his life again.

At first, Mr. and Mrs. Xander thought it was just a fleeting phase, a final burst of energy before a deeper collapse, so they watched him even more closely.

But half a year passed, and Dylan began acting like he had truly stepped out of the darkness. He smiled again. He worked. He seemed healed.

Eventually, his parents relaxed.

When he said he wanted to take a trip to the ocean, they even helped plan a cruise.

They never imagined what would happen next.

As the ship was swallowed by the rising waves, Zoe had watched Dylan break free of her grip with everything he had and that was when it finally hit her.

He had never healed.

He had spent six full months pretending—calmly, methodically planning the perfect opportunity to die.

Even if the tsunami hadn’t hit, he still would have jumped from the deck that day.

In the end, Dylan and Jenny became a tragic fairytale—one buried in the clouds, the other lost to the sea.

And Zoe? She was the bitter punchline of a cruel joke.

She fell into a spiral of guilt and heartbreak that never ended.

Dylan’s hand had already been crippled—so how had he still managed to break free from her grip?

In the end, she was the one who killed him.

Zoe wiped her tears with the back of her hand, trying to pull herself together. She was just about to stand and leave when Dylan suddenly turned and looked straight at her.

The moment their eyes met, the warmth on his face vanished. It was replaced with unmistakable disgust.

“Zoe, are you serious? Are you ever going to quit? You followed us all the way here?!”

Zoe quickly tried to explain. “I’m here for the procedure.”

Dylan paused, caught off guard for a second—but before he could say anything, Jenny’s eyes welled up with tears.

Her gaze dropped to Zoe’s stomach and lingered there for just a moment. Then she let out a soft, choked sob and turned to run.

“Jenny!”

Dylan caught her by the wrist, pulling her back. “What’s wrong? Jenny, talk to me!”

Tears streamed down her face. “Dylan… I think we should break up. She’s pregnant with your child!”

Zoe’s voice trembled. “I’m terminating it.”

Jenny glared at her through tears. “That baby is innocent. You’re a monster.”

Zoe was stunned.

If she hadn’t accidentally seen Jenny abusing a cat—and later caught her getting involved with multiple married men—she might have actually believed Jenny was pure and kind.

That moment of discovery was what had pushed Zoe to stay and marry Dylan in her past life.

But Dylan had never believed her. Not then. Not now.

Before Zoe could say anything, Dylan snapped at her with scathing rage.

“You planned this, didn’t you?!

“If you were going to end the pregnancy, you could’ve done it quietly. But no—you had to show up in front of us and put on this pathetic act. Let me make one thing clear: I don’t care. I’m not falling for your manipulative games.”

His voice was loud, echoing through the hallway. Heads began to turn.

And right on cue, Jenny started sobbing uncontrollably, looking as fragile and innocent as a porcelain doll.

The crowd didn’t hesitate to judge.

“What a shameless girl,” someone muttered.

“She looks decent enough. Who knew she was the type to chase after someone else’s boyfriend?”

“Some people really have no shame these days.”

Zoe finally understood what it meant to be condemned without a chance to defend yourself.

Her explanation burned in her throat, but refused to come out.

After a long silence, she lowered her eyes.

“Think whatever you want. You never believe me anyway.”

For a split second, Dylan looked surprised.

But it faded quickly. His expression hardened, his voice sharper than ever.

“You’re disgusting.”

He turned back to Jenny, gently wiping the tears from her face. Without even glancing at Zoe again, he wrapped an arm around Jenny’s shoulders and walked away.

Not long after, a nurse approached.

“Miss Stone, we’re ready for you.”

The chaos ended just like that.

Zoe gave a quiet nod. She placed a hand gently over her stomach, then turned and walked in the opposite direction from where Dylan had gone.

The procedure wasn’t as painful as she had imagined. After resting at the hospital for a few hours, she went home and began packing.

She had decided to move out during her final days here. Dylan clearly didn’t want her around.

Time passed slowly. She stared at the small suitcase on the floor, dazed.

She had lived in the Xander home for six years. Mr. and Mrs. Xander had always treated her well, like their own daughter. They had bought her so many things over the years.

She wouldn’t be taking any of it with her.

Which meant—there wasn’t much that truly belonged to her.

She set the suitcase aside and looked toward the photo frame by the bed.

It was an old group photo—one where she and Dylan looked much younger, their smiles unguarded.

After a moment of hesitation, Zoe took the photo out of the frame and carefully cut herself out of it.

“Zoe!”

The door suddenly slammed open. Dylan burst in, his face dark with fury.

When he saw the suitcase at her feet, he froze. Then his anger only deepened.

“Where do you think you’re going? You think you can run away after pulling something this low?”

Before she could respond, he threw a stack of photographs at her face with a sharp smack.