【Owen, don't be too hard on Cousin Enya. After all, we were the ones who wronged her first.】

【It's just that, three days from now, she won't have a single relative from her side to see her off. That would look so undignified.】

【So I thought I'd stay a few more days, at least help Cousin Enya get through the wedding. Is that all right?】

Rupert's face tightened with reluctance, and he said he could stay with her.

But Roberta's eyes reddened again, and she snapped,

【You don't believe I'm innocent, so you want to stay and keep watch over me?】

【Or is it… that you still can't let go of Cousin Enya?】

At that, Rupert panicked and nodded his agreement at once.

He even swore on his own life that he would never let himself be suspicious again.

Then he turned and left without looking back.

But as he passed me, he couldn't help dropping a low warning.

【Roberta is sentimental about the past. I'm not.】

【If you bully her again, I'll have you committed to a psychiatric ward myself.】

I gave a bitter smile and let my gaze drift somewhere else.

The moment Rupert was gone, Owen couldn't wait to brand his own marks on Roberta, just to cover the warmth Rupert had left on her skin.

I took down my mother's portrait, held it against my chest, and told them to get out.

But Owen, shameless as ever, not only refused to leave, he tossed out an order that turned my stomach.

【Go buy ten boxes of condoms. What we've got won't last tonight.】

I didn't answer. I stayed silent for a long while, then finally turned my eyes to Roberta.

【Back then, to make me give you up to Rupert, you were willing to throw yourself off a building just to marry him.】

【You can hide this for a while, but you can't hide it for a lifetime.】

【Turn back now, and I can pretend none of this ever happened.】

I said all this not as forgiveness, but because I felt sorry for her.

Rupert trusted her so completely. It meant he truly loved Roberta.

As her elder cousin, I didn't want to watch her destroy her own family.

But Roberta put on her wounded act again.

【Cousin Enya, how can you say something like that?】

【It's Owen who's always found you dull and boring. He never wanted to touch you.】

【I only sacrificed myself, satisfying him in your place, so he'd treat you a little better.】

Before the words were even out, as if she meant to perform it just for me, she tangled herself around Owen even more shamelessly.

I gave up on her completely, took up my mother's portrait, and went downstairs.

At the foot of the stairs, the neighbor, Marcus, was pacing, and there was nothing left in his eyes for me but pity.

He scratched his head, a little embarrassed, and told me the truth.

The fact was, he'd had his ear to the wall all day. He'd pieced together most of what was going on, and he couldn't stomach what they'd done to me.

He even volunteered, said he'd come forward as a witness and expose that pair to their faces.

Who would have thought that in the end, the only one willing to stand on my side was a neighbor I'd never really met.

I gave him an awkward smile and raised a hand to stop him.

【It's all right, Marcus. Let's talk about it after three days.】

Marcus stared, stunned, and tried to talk me out of it.

【Miss, they've trampled all over you, and you're still going to marry him?】

【A person only lives once. Even if you can't win, you've got to keep your pride!】

I tightened my fist and looked down at my dead mother's portrait in my arms. My voice came soft as a sigh.

【Yes. You've got to keep your pride.】

The first thing I did was call the hospital where my father was, to start the paperwork to transfer him.

Just as I'd feared, I was still one step behind Owen.

The nurse told me my father had been picked up and taken out of the hospital ten minutes earlier.

By the time I'd pulled myself back together and returned to the old house, the two of them were still in the bed.

I didn't understand. I crushed down everything I was feeling and looked at Owen.

"Plenty of women want to marry you. Why does it have to be me?"

Owen lifted his eyes to mine, his voice flat.

"Because you're sensible and easy to handle. And besides—"

He paused, then went on.

"And besides, you need a lot of money to keep your father alive."

"Other than coming to me for scraps, what choice do you really have?"

"And marrying you is the only way I get to stay by Roberta's side without anyone questioning it."

He wasn't wrong. As things stood, I had no grounds to refuse anything he asked.

For a long moment I said nothing. Then I lifted my head and agreed to his terms.

I only made one demand of my own.

"I want to see my father. I want to see for myself that he's all right."

Owen frowned, plainly out of patience.

But against the stubbornness in my eyes, he gave in at last.

Early the next morning, I saw my father in a private hospital.

His face was frighteningly pale, yet when he saw me he forced up that same bright, easy smile.

He was always like this. Afraid I'd worry, so he pretended everything was light and fine.

Seeing me come alone, he grew uneasy.

"Where's your husband? You two haven't been fighting lately, have you?"

I shook my head and forced out a thin smile. "No. We're doing fine."

Only then did he relax. He took the bowl of pork rib soup I held out, and there was nothing but relief in his voice.

"Good. I was afraid I'd caused a rift between you and him."

"Honestly, your husband had a point. The people coming from his side are all important, respectable folks."

"Looking the way I do, I'd only have embarrassed you."

I froze where I stood, my hand hanging in the air.

Owen had never told me any of this.

My eyes stung red in an instant, and before I knew it I was asking, "If I didn't want to marry anymore, would that be all right..."

My voice was barely there, but my father heard it clearly.

"Sweetheart, has Owen been mistreating you?"

"Or did Roberta cause some trouble again and upset you?"

He sat bolt upright, so worked up that a fit of coughing tore through him.

I came to my senses and rushed to say it was only a joke.

But my father's face stayed dead serious as he gripped my hand tight.

"Sweetheart, you must never tie your life to mine."

"My greatest wish in this whole life is just to see you happy. Don't you know that?"

My nose ached, and the tears came down before I could stop them.

He got so angry he wanted to call Owen and demand an answer.

I hurried to stop him, making up some excuse about an allergy, nothing serious.

Then I fled.

Because I was terrified that if I stayed one second longer, he'd see through me and refuse the treatment.

I was still turning it over, wondering whether to beg Owen one more time.

If only my father could see me in the wedding dress. Even from behind would be enough.

But the moment I stepped out of the hospital, a cry went up in the distance.

"A patient jumped!"

I looked over from far off, and something about the figure was familiar.

It wasn't until I came closer that I realized it was my father.

In the morgue, a nurse handed me a cash gift envelope. They'd found it under his pillow.

It was the savings he'd scraped together a little at a time out of his own medical money, and folded inside was a note.

"To my daughter, congratulations on your wedding, and may you be happy forever."

I held that scrap of paper and wept until I couldn't make a sound in the morgue.

My father had traded his own life for my happiness.

I'd meant to go find Owen and call off the engagement.

But as I reached the corner outside his office, I heard Roberta's anxious voice.

"Even if your uncle yelled at you on the phone this morning, you still can't go spilling everything about us to him."

"What if he gets desperate and decides to come after you?"

Owen let out a cold scoff, contempt dripping from every word.

"He brought it on himself, pushing me for answers."

"All I did was tell him the truth. If it scared the life out of him, that's what he gets."

"A legless old burden like that. What could he possibly do?"

I sagged against the wall, so heartbroken I could barely keep my feet under me.

I opened the call log.

Two minutes and fourteen seconds, ending the very moment before my father jumped.

So it wasn't the illness that drove my father to his death. It was that phone call from Owen.

In that case, this wedding stays on.