Chapter 2

Sierra pressed two fingers to her temple, clearly losing patience.

"I already told you. I'm only helping Cyrus recover. Can't you be a little more understanding?"

My chest tightened at her words.

I could still remember the moment the system had warned me about my deadline. Desperate, I had begged her, "Sierra, what if I die because we don't get married this time? Would you at least come with me to get the license?"

She had simply brushed me off. "I've told you already. Cyrus is in my past. Stop making a big deal out of it."

When I refused to let it go, she had finally relented. "Fine. Give Cyrus the project you're working on, and I'll marry you."

I had believed her, thinking that if I swallowed my jealousy, let her stay close to her first love, and even handed over the project I'd worked so hard to secure, I'd finally get the future I'd been fighting for.

I was wrong.

Sierra had agreed to marry me, only to stand me up and turn around to marry Cyrus instead. She had given him everything I had sacrificed, and now that she had taken even my last chance at life, she still wanted me to be understanding.

What a joke!

I held out the gift I'd brought. "Happy wedding."

Inside the box was the watch Sierra had bought me ten years ago when she first confessed her feelings. She had spent more than a thousand dollars on it—an enormous sum for two people who could barely afford to eat properly back then.

I'd treasured it all these years because I thought it represented the love we'd built together. Now that things between us were over, it was time to return it to its rightful owner.

Sierra took the box and realized she'd misunderstood me. An awkward expression crossed her face, but before she could speak, Cyrus walked over.

"Sierra, everyone is waiting for you."

He glanced at me as though he'd only just noticed I was there.

"Who's this?"

He pretended not to know me, but there was no mistaking the hostility hidden deep in his eyes. I was certain he hadn't lost his memory at all.

Yet Sierra, who had always prided herself on being an excellent judge of character, failed to see through him.

"Just a friend," she quickly replied. "He came to drop off a gift."

"Thanks." Cyrus broke into a smile. He opened the box right in front of everyone and let out an exaggerated gasp. "Wait... Why an old watch?"

Several people nearby looked over, and whispers quickly spread through the room.

"Giving an old watch at a high-society wedding? Is this guy trying to humiliate them?"

...

Cyrus turned to Sierra with a wounded expression.

"It's okay, Sierra," he said thoughtfully. "I trust you. Your friend must have brought it to wish us well. I'll put it on right now so he won't feel embarrassed."

But when he slipped the watch onto his wrist, he looked reluctant. Sierra shot me an irritated look before immediately comforting him. "You don't like it? Then take it off. You don't have to force yourself."

Cyrus shook his head stubbornly. "No. It's a gift from your friend. I have to wear it."

As the two of them tussled over the watch, it slipped from Cyrus's hand and crashed to the floor. The crystal face shattered on impact.

Without thinking, Cyrus reached down and pressed his palm against the broken glass. In the next instant, a sharp cry escaped his mouth, and he quickly pulled his hand back.

A tiny bead of blood welled from his finger as he frowned. The moment Sierra saw him bleeding, even though the cut was barely more than a scratch, her expression turned furious.

She grabbed the watch by its broken strap and hurled it at me. "I knew you didn't come here with good intentions. Security, get him out!"

She immediately called over the medical staff and hovered around Cyrus, fussing over the tiny cut as though he'd suffered a serious injury.

The watch she'd thrown at me, meanwhile, had sliced across my face. Blood trickled down my cheek, warm against my skin, but I barely felt it.

"Mr. Hanson, please leave!"

The security guards who used to treat me with utmost respect now rushed to please their employer. Four men grabbed hold of me and carried me outside before dumping me onto the gravel.

I hit the ground hard enough to feel as though every bone in my body had been cracked. Unable to get back up, I simply lay there and stared up at the blue sky.

Eventually, my phone vibrated.

Sierra had wired 100,000 dollars into my account, following up with a text.

[Go to the hospital yourself. And if that scar leaves a mark on your face, I really will stop caring about you.]

I didn't accept the money. Instead, I forced myself upright, picked up the shattered watch covered in my blood, and threw it into the nearest trash can.

If she didn't want me, so be it.

For those last seven days, I wanted to live for myself.