Cerita Pendek & Novel Golden Finger Romance

I could see everyone’s loyalty score floating above their heads. Once it dropped below 60%, they would eventually leave. The day my father cheated, his loyalty score fell from 69% to 23%. The day my sister ran away from home, hers dropped to 7%. So later, whenever I dated someone, I always knew when to walk away. I never stayed long enough to be abandoned. Until I met Ethan Hayes. His loyalty score had always been 100%. I thought I had finally found true love. But on our daughter’s third birthday, he broke his promise and didn’t show up. That night, when he finally came home, the number above his head had fallen from 100% to 87%. I stared at it for a long moment. Then I thought, It was time to start planning my exit again.

When I was seventeen, someone stabbed me in the womb, leaving me unable to have children for the rest of my life. My husband promised he would love me forever. Still, after just five years of marriage, he cheated on me with the very person responsible for my injury. They even had a child together, and he wanted me to divorce him so she could replace me.

He almost never texts me first, and in person he barely says a word. In three years together, he's never remembered a single anniversary, and he's never once suggested we celebrate a holiday. But the second I message him first, he lights up, all "baby" this and "baby" that, fussing over me, coaxing me to sleep. Sometimes I'd get this strange feeling that there were two different Noahs. His explanation was that he was just bad with words face-to-face, and that texting or voice notes felt like less pressure. I kept telling myself that being together meant meeting each other halfway. He was quiet and reserved, so I'd be the one to reach out. He forgot anniversaries, so I booked the restaurant and reminded him to keep the night free. He had no time to schedule our engagement shoot, so I handled the whole thing with the studio myself. He was too busy with work to help us move, so I packed everything alone, booked the movers, and got it all done. When I was so worn out I was about to break, I'd send him a voice note, and he'd say, "I'm so sorry, baby. The lab was insane today. I couldn't be there for you, and it kills me to watch you run yourself into the ground." Hearing how guilty he sounded, all my hurt just melted away. And that's how I carried three years of this relationship on my own, running on the flawless tenderness he only ever gave me online. Until today, when I found a program on his laptop called Boyfriend Assistant. It analyzed every message I sent and generated the perfect reply, the perfect response, every single time. Cold snap? It sent: Bundle up, baby. Time of the month? It pinged an API and auto-ordered hot chocolate to my door. All those late nights he spent "working," the gentle voice notes that lulled me to sleep, every one of them was synthesized in Noah's voice. For three years, the person who'd been there for me, day and night, was never Noah at all. For three years, I'd been performing a one-woman show.

I transmigrated into a disposable side character, and the system gave me one mission: win over the flirtatious playboy second male lead. The problem was, I’d been awkward and slow since I was a kid. So whenever he flirted with me like I was just another one of his usual targets, all I could do was stare blankly at him. “Guess where the rose is.” He stood there with both hands behind his back, hiding a bouquet of roses as he smiled at me. [Host, this is where you’re supposed to act shy.] Oh. Shy. I gave him a bashful smile, reached up, and lightly brushed my fingers over the shell of his ear. Then I pulled my hand back. “I think…” The next second, a perfect red rose appeared between my fingers as if from thin air. “It’s right here.” Silence. Two full seconds passed. Then the second male lead’s face turned bright red.