Chapter 1

Before our wedding, my Fiancé John Clark was kidnapped on his way to pick up my wedding dress.

He didn't die, but he claimed to have lost all memory of me. Worse, whenever the topic of marriage came up, he'd faint on the spot.

The doctor said it was a stress response—post-traumatic sequelae that had led to the development of a second personality.

At the same time, I found out I was pregnant.

The doctor gave me a sliver of hope. "Maybe the arrival of this child will awaken the part of him that loves you deeply."

Clinging to the pregnancy test results, I went to find him, full of hope and anticipation. But what I overheard shattered everything.

Laughter echoed from the room where he and his friends were talking.

"John, you're the master! Faking a second personality just to dodge a wedding? That's next level! What's the plan—add a third or fourth personality next?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he said coolly. "I love Debby Shawn. I'll only trick her this once. Let me fool around with ten more women, and I'll stop."

"Only ten?" one of them teased. "That's barely enough to explore all the positions in bed! You might as well keep this act going for another year or two. Anyway, Debby isn't going to marry anyone but you!"

His voice turned cold, cutting through their laughter.

"I can't stand to see her upset for that long. Get moving and find me some women—bold, seductive virgins. One every three days. Don't let this interfere with my wedding to Debby!"

I stood frozen, the pregnancy test results trembling in my hands, my chest tight as though I couldn't breathe.

That night, I tore the results into shreds and went to the hospital to book an appointment for an abortion.

When the doctor saw me return, he assumed I wasn't feeling well.

But when I told him I wanted the abortion, his disbelief was immediate.

"This child is one you two worked so hard to conceive. If you go through with this, it might worsen your fiancé's condition!"

I forced a bitter smile and shook my head.

"If I tell him about this, it might truly push him over the edge."

After all, he was too busy indulging in his carefree adventures, reveling in the thrill of touching every flower without letting a single petal stick to him.

I couldn't wrap my head around it—the man who once begged me to marry him was now faking illness to deceive me.

The doctor, unable to dissuade me, reluctantly handed me the consent forms but insisted on calling John.

"Miss Shawn, this child isn't yours alone. Even if he doesn't want the baby because of his condition, he should still be here to sign the papers and be with you during the procedure. If there's been a misunderstanding, it can be cleared up face-to-face..."

I gently rested a hand on my belly and didn't stop him.

I had polycystic ovary syndrome—getting pregnant was already a miracle.

John, however, didn't care. He'd even fallen out with his parents to marry me.

If this child had to be given up, he ought to at least say goodbye.

But the moment the doctor called, I heard his cold laughter through the receiver.

"How much did Debby pay you to put on this act? I've told you—I don't even know her, let alone plan to marry her!"

"Do me a favor and tell her to stop using these tricks to force my hand. Whether the kid is even mine is still up for debate!"

The dial tone and his merciless sneer echoed in the silence of the operating room.

I signed the papers myself, closed my eyes, and let the procedure begin.

When I woke up in the recovery room, my phone was flooded with messages—all from John.

"Whatever happened between us, it doesn't matter now. I'm me, and you're you. If you have the energy to stage this elaborate scam, save it and just move out of my house."

He was so "thoughtful" that he'd rented a fully furnished apartment for me in the same neighborhood.

He even paid the first month's rent.

To reassure me, he signed a one-year lease with the landlord.

"Consider it a parting gift. You don't have to pay me back."

I glanced at the bloodied remains of what could have been our child and replied calmly.

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

That rent would count as his final responsibility toward the baby.

I stayed in the hospital for three days. He never once contacted me.

But his social media was filled with wild, drunken parties every night.

It was as if he was trying to reclaim the youth he'd "lost" because of me.

I knew those posts were for me to see.

Using an alternate account I'd once added him with, I found none of those updates visible.

So, I played along. I liked every single one of his videos.

When I went to check out of the hospital, I saw him rushing down the hallway with a doctor, pushing a hospital bed at full speed.

The moment he saw me, he turned his head away, pretending he hadn't noticed.

But I heard the urgent words of the emergency doctor.

"Prep Operating Room 1 immediately! The patient has a ruptured corpus luteum with severe bleeding and needs RH-negative blood for a transfusion!"

"What? There's no stock left?"

The doctor hung up and quickly explained the situation to John.

A moment ago, he'd ignored me. Now, he suddenly stopped, turned around, and ran toward me.

"Debby, as long as you agree to donate blood for Sophia Taylor, I won't hold it against you for stalking me!"

I froze, stunned.

"I wasn't stalking you..."

"Enough excuses! Saving her life is what matters!"

He grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the doctor.

"She's Rh-negative! Take as much as you need!"

I tried to pull away with all my strength but couldn't break free. Instead, I let out a cold laugh and asked him, "Didn't you say you didn't know me? Then how do you know my blood type?"

I stared at him, waiting for an answer.

Chapter 2

John scratched his head, impatience flaring as he shouted,

"Is this really the time to dig into details? You said we've been in love for six years—so isn't it natural I'd remember you're Rh-negative in an emergency?"

But I'd just had a miscarriage, my body still weak and bleeding. How could I possibly donate blood?

Even if I were physically able, why should I step in to clean up his mess?

"I just had a miscarriage. I can't donate. Find someone else."

His temper flared instantly.

"Debby, you're always talking about how much you love me, yet now you won't even donate blood to help? You'd stoop so low as to make up a lie about having a miscarriage?"

"I never imagined you'd be the kind of person to stand by and watch someone die! No wonder I can't remember ever loving you!"

He wasn't wrong. If he'd truly loved me, he wouldn't have faked his illness. He wouldn't have ignored the pallor of my face.

And he certainly wouldn't have pressured me into donating blood for his mistress.

The monitors nearby started beeping frantically. The emergency doctor, unwilling to waste more time, urged the team to move the patient to the OR immediately.

John, however, was determined to drag me along. When I resisted, he grew angry and hoisted me over his shoulder.

"Debby, whether you're willing or not, this is on me. I'll owe you for this. I'll even marry you on the wedding day if that's what it takes!"

All my struggles stopped in that instant.

Thinking of how he'd once risked his life to save me, I convinced myself this was just repaying a debt.

Watching my blood flow steadily into the transfusion bag, I felt my heart grow colder with each drop.

When the donation was complete, John rushed off with the nurse toward the operating room.

Staring at his retreating back, I said softly, "John, we're even now."

As I walked out of the donation room, dizziness hit me like a wave. My vision darkened, and I collapsed.

When I woke up again, the doctor looked ready to scold me but let out a sigh instead.

"Take care of yourself. In your condition, you shouldn't donate blood again for at least six months."

I smiled and promised to be careful.

After the doctor left, a nearby nurse couldn't help whispering,

"Boss, why didn't you tell her we couldn't reach her emergency contact? What if she misunderstands us..."

"She won't misunderstand," the doctor replied with a resigned shake of her head. "That girl knows perfectly well. It's just a shame she met the wrong person."

I picked up my phone and saw that the doctor had tried calling John over ten times.

Not one call had been answered.

Instead, he'd sent me a message berating me.

"Debby, can you stop causing trouble? Know your place, will you?"

In that moment, I was actually relieved he hadn't picked up.

I couldn't imagine the venomous words he would've hurled at me if he had.

I didn't reply. I spent the rest of the day lying in bed, regaining the strength to get up.

The sun was shining beautifully when I ventured out to the hospital's rooftop garden for some fresh air.

That's when I unexpectedly ran into John's friends.

Each of them was carrying a fruit basket or bouquet, none of which looked alike.

I thought they'd come to see me and instinctively turned to leave.

But they surrounded me, smirking as they sized up my hospital gown.

"Wow, so you heard John's here with his girlfriend and decided to stage a pity act too?" one of them sneered.

"All this drama over donating a little blood? Do you really have to look so frail and delicate?" another jeered.

"Your makeup is so subtle it's almost convincing. No wonder people always said you were a schemer. Too bad John didn't believe it back then..."

John's friends had always thought I wasn't good enough for him.

If it weren't for his insistence on forcing them to call me "sister-in-law," they'd never have acknowledged me.

Now, with his support gone, they no longer held back their true feelings.

When John came down to greet them, he froze at the sight of me, then frowned.

"Debby, was this necessary?"

"I already agreed to marry you. Did you really have to bribe the doctors to fake an illness just to spy on me? What's the point?"

"Do you have any idea how suffocating this is? Let me be blunt—if you keep acting like this after we're married, we'll just end up divorced sooner or later."

"There's no need to go to such trouble. I don't need you to marry me!"

For six years, he had always been free.

When he wanted to drink, I stayed quietly by his side without urging him to stop.

If my presence wasn't suitable, I'd wait for his call and pick him up right away.

When he was drunk, I cared for him without a single complaint, making sure he was completely comfortable.

When he wanted to go on trips with his friends, I'd book their tickets and plan their itinerary down to the last detail.

Even when he offered to let me check his phone, I never really did.

I loved him, and I didn't want to repeat the tragedy of my mother, whose controlling nature had driven my father to divorce.

I thought I'd mastered the delicate balance of giving him freedom while maintaining our relationship.

At least, until his accident, we'd been as passionate as a couple freshly in love.

But now I understood—my love suffocated him.

Was that why he pretended to be sick? For the thrill of it?

Chapter 3

Our eyes met, and I couldn't see a trace of affection for me in his gaze.

I swallowed the questions that nearly escaped my lips.

John frowned under my scrutiny, snatched a bouquet of lilies from his friend, and shoved them into my arms.

"Enough. Stop playing the victim and take the flowers already!"

He thought I was still the girl who'd be satisfied with small gestures.

He didn't believe I'd truly let him go.

I returned the flowers to his friend.

"These are for your girlfriend. It wouldn't be appropriate for me to take them."

"And as for the blood donation, it was my choice. You don't need to force yourself to marry me because of it."

A wave of panic surged through John.

Wasn't Debby supposed to be overjoyed?

Why did she keep insisting that he didn't need to marry her?

Could she actually be angry?

A flicker of anxiety flashed in his eyes.

"Debby, I..."

His friends coughed pointedly, cutting him off. He quickly changed his tone.

"Debby, I'm a man of my word."

But I merely smiled.

"Hurry and go take care of your girlfriend."

"I'll go discharge myself from the hospital now."

Hearing my gracious response, another jolt of unease struck him.

Something about me today felt different.

But he couldn't pinpoint what.

His friends, sensing his hesitation, slung their arms around his shoulders and dragged him away.

"Come on, stop looking back. Otherwise, your Sophia might get jealous! It's just another one of those dramatic plays women pull—first a pity act, then the whole hard-to-get routine. You're so naïve, it's no wonder you fall for it!"

"Exactly! Look at the mess you made—she's not a kid anymore, yet you managed to cause her to hemorrhage! Luckily, Sophia's magnanimous and didn't make a fuss. Not like someone else who uses a blood donation as leverage for marriage..."

Their pointed remarks, loud enough for me to hear, didn't sting as I'd imagined they would. Instead, a cold numbness crept through me, leaving me chilled despite the bright sunlight.

As I watched them leave, I completed the discharge process.

While John wasn't home, I hired a cleaning lady to help me pack.

The lady stared at the carefully decorated wedding room, her face full of shock.

"Miss Shawn, are you really throwing away all these brand-new wedding items?"

"Yes. The groom is dead, so they're useless now."

She immediately apologized and tried to comfort me.

To prevent me from being reminded of the past, she began with the wedding photos and dozens of albums of me and John.

In less than half a day, the meticulously prepared house showed no trace of joy.

The once festive home now felt cold and lifeless, just like me.

The cleaning lady looked at the dozen bags of belongings piled by the door—silent witnesses to our love—and sighed.

"Miss Shawn, let it go."

I nodded with a smile.

After she left, I made one last check to ensure there were no remnants of me left in the wedding room. Then, I deleted my fingerprints from the door lock, grabbed my suitcase, and walked away.

I didn't go to the apartment John rented for me. Instead, I checked into a postpartum care center.

When the receptionist learned I'd had a miscarriage, she kindly arranged for me to stay on a secluded floor.

For a few peaceful days, I kept to myself. But one day, a notification from the security camera app popped up on my phone.

I had forgotten to delete the account linked to the cameras in the wedding house.

Out of habit, I tapped it, and the screen lit up with an image of John and his girlfriend kissing passionately as they entered the house.

But as soon as he saw the state of the home, he pushed Sophia away.

"What's going on here?"

He pulled out his phone, clearly intending to call me. The moment it rang, Sophia snatched it from him.

"Ugh, stop! Why are you thinking about your ex while you're with me? Focus, will you?"

She hooked her arms around his neck, her hands deftly slipping beneath his shirt and wandering downward.

Unable to restrain himself, John pinned her against the wall, kissing her with an intensity I'd never experienced—even during our first time.

In no time, their clothes were scattered across the floor.

"John, I just got discharged from the hospital. Go easy on me today, okay?"

Overcome with desire, John's reddened eyes brimmed with pleading.

"You little minx, I've been holding back for too long. How about you take the lead this time?"

Sophia pouted coquettishly, her fingers tilting his chin as she teased, "That depends on your answer!"

"Compared to your ex, who do you love more?"

Panting heavily, John's expression turned cold.

"Debby was my fiancée. Who do you think I loved more?"

"Don't forget, we started this arrangement as a mutual transaction. If you weren't so… inexperienced, it wouldn't be your turn to serve me now!"

Sophia slid off him, pouting dramatically as tears streamed down her face.

"I nearly lost my life trying to please you. If you've got the guts, go find someone else!"

The sight of her crying made him panic. He hurried to pull her into his arms, kissing her in an attempt to coax her until her protests turned into breathy sighs.

I watched the screen numbly as they moved from the sofa to the bedroom, then to the bathroom. Once again, I realized. John never loved me.