Can You Explain The Ending Of 'Perfectly Hidden Depression'?

My sister had struggled with depression since childhood. The doctor warned that she could not tolerate any kind of stimulation. As a result, my entire life fell silent. To avoid upsetting her, I never dared to laugh at home. I never dared to cry. When I got hurt, I did not even have the right to say it hurt. My parents would hug me with apologetic expressions and say, "You're the good one. Your sister's illness requires the whole family to work together. You're healthy. You're strong. Let her have more, okay?" One day, I accidentally knocked over a cup. The crash sounded enormous in the quiet room, and my sister's emotions shattered at once. My father struck me for the first time. He roared, "Can't you be careful? Do you have to push her until she dies before you're satisfied?" He shoved me to the floor. The back of my head slammed against the corner of the table, and blood poured out. But my whole family rushed to my screaming sister. No one even glanced at me. I lay on the cold floor as my vision blurred and my consciousness began to fade. To them, my sister's feelings were the only emergency. My small injury could wait. They did not know that bleeding inside the skull does not wait.

On the day of our wedding, my fiance Thomas Warsh was killed in a car accident on the way there. His adopted sister rushed toward me, clutching his ashes, accusing me of being a jinx who brought him misfortune. I was drowning in grief when a line of floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. [You must remain a widow for three years for your deceased husband. After three years, he will be reincarnated and return to love you again!] [Don’t ever remarry. Otherwise, the male lead will never rest in peace, and you will suffer for the rest of your life!] That was when I learned that my fiancé and I were the hero and heroine of a novel. Only by following the spoilers in the comments and completing the storyline could I reunite with him. I did not remarry. Guided by the comments, I remained a widow for three years, and then another three. However, it was not until I suddenly died from a severe illness that I discovered the truth–the comments had all been written by Thomas. He had faked his death, changed his appearance, married his adopted sister, and fed me endless empty promises so I would continue to slave away for the Warsh family. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day before the wedding.

When my wife's childhood friend's depression flared up again, she handed me divorce papers. I signed them without a fuss and told her I was leaving the country. She looked surprised, then seemed to figure it out. "So you're finally behaving? Realized your little tantrums won't work, so now you're trying something new to get me back? Fine. Go abroad. Stay out of Asher's sight so you don't trigger him. When he gets better, I'll come get you." I slipped off my wedding ring and handed it to her. My gaze fell to the jagged scar on my wrist. "No need," I said. "Let's just let each other go. Stop holding on."

To protect the assistant who had been evading taxes, she deliberately gave false testimony in her role as my superior's wife, putting all the blame on me. I protested endlessly, but the law held me accountable. I was imprisoned for two months. Upon release, my colleagues turned against me, ostracizing me and destroying my promotion chances. Seeing that I neither cried nor caused a scene, my wife assumed that I had finally submitted. She even threatened to make amends with a lavish wedding for me. However, during the wedding vows, the assistant, suddenly overtaken by jealousy, ran to the company rooftop and threatened my wife with suicide to force her to cancel the wedding. My wife, who had always been obedient to him, panicked. She abandoned everyone at the ceremony and spent the entire night comforting her assistant. Afterwards, she calmly explained: "Wilson is young and impulsive. I was just afraid he might get hurt. Besides, you were released from prison so early thanks to him. He helped a lot. By right, he's still your lifesaver. I couldn't just abandon him." I looked at the couple rings she had just put on her finger, let out a faint hum, and said nothing. She believed I accepted her excuse and was pleased, even making an unprecedented promise: once she had calmed the assistant, she would take me on a honeymoon. However, she seemed to have forgotten one thing. She had already signed the divorce papers, and I had filed a lawsuit in court to have the case heard. From that moment on, we were no longer husband and wife. We were only plaintiff and defendant.

Anthony Seymour couldn't wrap his mind around it. He was the one who'd saved them. And yet, in the end, they kept pushing him away. They toyed with him using false confessions, treated him as someone else's stand-in, and left him gravely injured. He never got so much as a scrap of the good fortune he deserved. Instead, after one emotional wound too many, he developed a disorder that stripped away his ability to feel, and little by little, he lost all attachment to the world. Then, one day, Anthony made a decision. He would end his life, and when he did, he'd use his own organs to save seven others. That would be his final goodbye to the world. From that day on, he began searching for strangers who needed help, using death as his purpose and his method of choosing who to save. But once word got out, the very women who'd once hurt him came flooding back, begging him through tears not to die. Anthony, who'd already lost every last one of his emotions, only found it puzzling. After everything that had happened, he wondered—what were they even crying for?

Adrian Wells just wants to be left alone. Quiet nights, warm tea, and his sketchpad are all he needs to survive in a world that has taken too much from him already. Scarred by the fire that claimed his family and plagued by anxiety that keeps him from truly living, Adrian has grown used to solitude. But someone else has been watching—and waiting. When a black box appears at his doorstep, filled with unsettlingly personal gifts, Adrian brushes it off as a prank. But the messages grow bolder. The intrusions into his life become impossible to ignore. Someone knows him. Someone sees him. And that someone is Evan Thorn. Evan isn’t just a stalker—he’s a protector in his own twisted way. Rich, intelligent, and obsessive, he believes Adrian is his to love, to shield, to possess. From anonymous letters to watching from the shadows, Evan orchestrates a careful descent into Adrian’s world, eliminating anyone who gets too close. But he isn’t the only one watching. When a more violent rival stalker emerges, Adrian finds himself caught between two versions of danger: the chaos of the unknown and the devil he’s slowly come to understand. As the walls close in, Adrian is forced to rely on Evan—the very man who shattered his sense of safety. What begins as fear turns into something darker: a toxic intimacy that blurs the line between captor and comfort. As Adrian starts to feel seen for the first time in his life, he questions whether love can grow in the shadows—or if it’s just another kind of cage. In a story about obsession, trauma, what, If someone breaks you just to put you back together, is that still love? And when you finally escape them, do they ever really leave?