Chapter 2

A message from the system then flashed before my eyes.

"Are you sure? Once you confirm, the countdown will begin. You will return to your original world in seven days. Until then, this body will gradually weaken, and on the seventh day, it will die."

I glanced toward the living room, where the two of them were still laughing and chatting together.

My voice was barely a whisper. "I'm sure."

Leaning against the wall, I suddenly found myself remembering what things had been like seven years ago.

Back then, Hallie's family had just gone bankrupt. Someone had broken her leg and abandoned her in an alley during a torrential downpour.

She had begged everyone she could think of for help. She had even come close to selling herself just to survive, but everyone avoided her like the plague—everyone except me.

At the time, I was carrying out the system's mission to "save the female lead," so I carried her back to my run-down apartment, where rainwater leaked through the roof.

She was burning with fever and barely conscious, whimpering in pain. Night after night, I wiped her down with a damp cloth and made sure she drank enough water.

When she finally regained consciousness, I was the first person she saw.

Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. Her trembling fingers weakly clutched the edge of my shirt.

"Sebastian, please don't leave me."

Later, her family recovered from their financial troubles, and Hallie became the youngest female CEO in the city.

Yet even then, she would still curl up beside me, trembling as she whispered with unwavering determination, "Sebastian, I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you."

The love in her eyes back then had been so intense that it made my heart tremble.

I truly believed I was different from everyone else to her.

Only now did I understand that I wasn't special to her. I had simply moved her more deeply than anyone else had. That was all.

I pulled the corner of my mouth into a faint smile, picked up the plate of fruit, and walked out of the kitchen.

The living room was already empty. Only the faint sound of laughter drifted down from upstairs.

I followed the voices to the master bedroom.

The moment I pushed the door open, I froze.

Wyatt was wearing my suit. It was the old suit I had kept locked away in the back of my closet, untouched for years.

Hallie stood in front of him, calmly adjusting his tie.

They were so close there was barely any space between them. Her chin rested against his shoulder as she looked up at him, their faces almost touching.

I clenched my fist until my nails dug into my palm.

In this world, I had worn a suit for Hallie only twice.

We had been too poor to afford a proper suit, so Hallie spent six months' worth of savings on fabric and sewed one for me by hand, stitch by painstaking stitch.

She had grown up sheltered, never having to do anything for herself. Yet for me, even with her right leg still in a cast, she would sit on a little stool and stay up night after night, working on that suit.

I would wake in the middle of the night and find her sitting beneath the dim yellow light, her fingers dotted with tiny puncture wounds from the needle.

She never seemed to care about the pain.

She would simply smooth out every wrinkle in the fabric again and again, determined to make it perfect.

Years later, after everything had been restored, we held a lavish wedding ceremony. I wore a custom-made suit worth a fortune, embroidered with golden thread.

But that old, crookedly stitched suit was still the most precious thing I had ever owned.

And now, she had willingly let another man wear it.

The plate slipped from my hands. Red raspberries scattered across the floor, looking almost like drops of blood.

Only then did Hallie notice me.

She immediately rushed over and grabbed my wrist, checking my hands.

"Sebastian, did you cut yourself on any of the pieces?"

The concern on her face looked completely genuine.

But somehow, that only made the bitterness in my throat harder to swallow.

When she took one look at my pale face, she immediately released my wrist, and her tone suddenly turned cold.

"Are you overthinking everything again? Wyatt is just young and curious. He wanted to know what it felt like to be the groom."

Wyatt walked over with a grin and grabbed my arm.

"Dad, you promised me that someday you'd give me this suit so I could carry on the happiness it represents!"

I looked into his eyes. There was curiosity there, but also a hint of provocation.

I felt sick.

So, this was how they were using the excuse of being my "future son".

Hallie frowned, but she didn't stop him. If anything, she seemed almost curious to see how I would react.

I let out a quiet laugh and pulled my arm free. "Of course. It's yours."

Hallie visibly froze for a moment, and her expression darkened.

"Sebastian, do you have any idea how much effort I put into making that suit? And you're just giving it away?"

I met her eyes with a distant smile.

"Weren't you the one who told me not to overthink things? If I can't even tolerate my own son, wouldn't that make me pretty petty?"

Hallie was momentarily speechless.

Then she let out a cold laugh. "Fine. I like you better when you're this generous."

She grabbed Wyatt by the wrist and pulled him into the dressing room, slamming the door behind them.

I stood there in silence.

From behind the closed door came muffled sounds of them moving around.

I looked up. Through the narrow gap where the door hadn't fully closed, I caught a glimpse of Wyatt and Hallie standing close together. Wyatt repeatedly kissed her while she was pressed against the mirror.

A bitter sense of irony settled over me.

She had been the one to use my suit to provoke me. Yet now that I was willingly giving it away, she was the one who was angry.

I couldn't help wondering why.

Was she angry because I no longer valued the effort she had once put into making that suit? Or was it because I was no longer reacting the way she expected me to?

I smiled faintly, turned away, and walked over to the desk.

I sat down, pulled my diary from the drawer, and wrote the opening line of my farewell letter.

From the dressing room came the occasional crash of something hitting the floor. The noise was loud. Whatever they were doing there, they seemed to be making quite a mess.

My grip tightened around the pen until my knuckles turned white, but I never once looked up.

Two hours later, the dressing-room door finally opened.

Wyatt helped Hallie out. She could barely stand on her own, leaning heavily against him, her eyes still slightly red.

Hallie glanced at me and casually wiped her lips.

"Wyatt was curious about what our wedding was like back then. I walked him through everything from beginning to end. It took a little longer than I expected."

I quietly closed my diary. I could feel my stomach churning.

Whatever they had been reminiscing about, I seriously doubted it had anything to do with the actual wedding ceremony.

I lowered my eyes and slipped the old-fashioned beaded bracelet from my wrist.

Then I held it out to Wyatt, who looked completely satisfied with himself.

I smiled faintly. "Since you like my things so much, you can have this, too."

Hallie's eyes fell on the bracelet, and her pupils suddenly contracted.

She rushed forward, snatched it from my hand, and glared at me, her eyes red with anger.

"How dare you give this to someone else?" she demanded.

"Sebastian, you know perfectly well…" Her voice trembled. "I nearly gave my life to get this for you."