The next morning, Celia woke up early and headed to the dining room, only to notice someone already in the kitchen.

It was Lucas, wearing an apron as he prepared breakfast, with Yvonne wrapped around him from behind. He didn’t push her away.

Instead, he would glance back at her occasionally, his expression soft with affection, even smiling indulgently.

Their intimacy played out clearly before Celia’s eyes, bringing a sudden wave of memories from the past.

Back then, the house was full of staff, but Lucas was always too busy working late into the night and often not coming home. The staff, seeing her as just a helpless child, took advantage of the situation by neglecting their duties, sometimes even withholding her meals.

When Lucas discovered their behavior, he fired every single one of them. Determined to care for her himself, he learned to cook and handled every meal for her, three times a day with no detail overlooked.

But now, she couldn’t let herself love him anymore.

If Yvonne was the one who could bring him happiness, then all she could do was offer them her blessing.

Celia quietly shifted her gaze away, walking once again to the calendar without realizing it.

Yvonne, at some point, had stepped out of the kitchen and noticed the calendar. Her curiosity was piqued, and she suddenly asked, “What’s with this countdown calendar? Why does it only have a few pages?”

Hearing her question, Lucas instinctively looked over, his attention also landing on the calendar.

Seeing both of them focused on it, Celia paused and came up with a quick excuse. “I saw it while out with a friend the other day. I thought it was interesting, so I bought it.”

It was a weak explanation, but Lucas didn’t press further and instead changed the topic. “I’m taking Yvonne out for a date today.”

His words were blunt as if gauging her reaction. He expected her to protest or create a scene, but to his surprise, she simply nodded obediently. “Have fun.”

The lack of a response left Lucas momentarily at a loss. He should’ve been pleased, but as he looked at Celia, a strange heaviness settled in his chest, inexplicably stifling.

The atmosphere grew awkwardly quiet until Yvonne suddenly broke the silence. “If you’re going to be alone here, why not come with us?”

Celia hadn’t expected Yvonne to invite her along, and for a moment, she froze. But she quickly shook her head. “I have plans. I promised to meet up with some friends to say goodbye, so I’ll pass.”

With only half a month left before college started, the gathering was filled with her friends’ excitement for the future. But Celia sat alone on the sidelines, silent and withdrawn.

After all, she only had five days left. Five days before she would vanish completely, leaving no future to dream about.

Noticing her quietness, someone approached her with a teasing grin.

“Celia, you like your uncle, don’t you? Why not make a move before the summer’s over?”

“Exactly! They say it’s hard for a guy to win over a girl, but for a girl, it’s easy as pie. You’re not even blood-related. Why not go for it? Stop being so shy and make your move!”

The mention of Lucas sparked a lively buzz among the group. Ideas flew as they excitedly egged her on, some even joking about taking drastic measures. But Celia simply shook her head, her expression calm.

“No. I can’t and won’t like him anymore.”

The gathering didn’t last long, and when it was time to leave, Celia made her rounds to say goodbye to each of them.

“Lila, congratulations on getting into the school you wanted. I’m sure you’ll have a bright future ahead of you.”

“Sophie, you need to take better care of yourself. You’re always skipping breakfast—you have to start taking your health seriously.”

“Annie, Sarah, I’ll always miss you both.”

One by one, she hugged them, her demeanor serious and sincere. Her unusual solemnity made the others laugh, brushing it off as a quirky show of sentimentality.

“Celia, your goodbye is way too formal, like we’ll never see each other again. Don’t worry, just because we’re going to different colleges doesn’t mean we’ll forget about you.”

After bidding farewell, the group gradually dispersed, leaving Celia as the last to leave.

She watched their retreating figures, a faint sadness welling up in her heart.

No, they would never meet again.

“Goodbye, my friends.”

When Celia returned home, Lucas was already back. The moment she stepped through the door, she saw him sitting on the sofa, his expression dark and stormy.

Her gaze swept the room, but Yvonne was nowhere to be seen. She casually asked, “Where’s Yvonne?”

“She’s on a business trip.”

Accepting his answer without much thought, Celia nodded and was about to head upstairs when Lucas’ cold voice stopped her.

“Hold it!”

She turned to see him pulling out several items, his face etched with displeasure.

“Care to explain these?” he demanded, holding up a collection of things—a receipt of her purchased casket and funeral outfit.

When Celia saw the items on the floor, her heart skipped a beat.

She had hidden them so carefully—how had Lucas found them?

For a moment, panic flickered across her face. It took her a moment to collect herself before she stammered, “Tomorrow is the anniversary of my parents’ passing. I bought these as a way to honor their memory.”

Hearing her response, Lucas hesitated, the odd tension in his chest easing slightly. After a moment, he said, “I’ll go with you to visit them tomorrow.”

“There’s no need, Uncle,” she replied quickly, shaking her head. “You should focus on spending time with Yvonne and handling work. I’ve caused you enough trouble in the past. I won’t be a burden to you anymore.”

Lucas had been prepared for her to accept his offer with gratitude, but her unexpected refusal left him stunned. Shock flickered in his eyes as Celia turned and left without giving him a chance to respond.

Once back in her room, she silently tore another page from the calendar, shredding the piece into tiny fragments and tossing them into the trash.

Only four days left.

As Lucas watched her retreating figure, her words echoed in his mind. Before he could stop himself, he murmured, “You were never a burden to me, Celia.”

His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and by the time he spoke, Celia was already in her room, unable to hear his words.

On the fourth day of her countdown, Celia visited her parents’ grave alone. She walked to their headstone, gently placing a bouquet of flowers in front of it. Her gaze lingered on their photographs engraved on the stone—familiar, gentle smiles that seemed frozen in time.

Sitting down between the two graves, she let herself imagine she was once again nestled between them, just as she had been as a child.

“Mom, Dad,” she began softly, “I don’t know if you’ve already reincarnated by now. Please don’t be angry at me for being selfish—trading my soul for seven days just to settle things.

“For so long, I envied others for having parents who loved them, but not anymore. I had Uncle Lucas. He cared for me, protected me, and gave me all the love in the world. And I—I fell in love with him, despite everything.

“But now, I see that my existence has only ever been a burden to him. He’ll have a new family someday, and I’ll always be the outsider. From the beginning to the end, I am destined to be alone.

“Life here... it’s not so good. I’ve decided that I won’t come back in my next life. I don’t regret my choice, but it’s a little sad. I never got to experience what it’s like to truly be loved before I died.”

Celia stayed at the cemetery, talking to her parents for a long time. When she finally finished, she didn’t leave immediately. Instead, she found the cemetery’s caretaker.

After some discussion, Celia made arrangements to purchase a burial plot beside her parents’ graves. This way, she thought, when the time came, she’d have a place to belong, one close to them.

After leaving the cemetery, Celia sold off her parents’ inheritance and every gift Lucas had ever given her, converting it all into a significant sum of money.

This money, she decided, would go back to Lucas as repayment for the ten years he had spent raising her.

Celia transferred all the funds into a single bank card and returned to the villa late that evening. Lucas wasn’t home, which worked perfectly for her plan.

Quietly, she slipped into his study, hiding the card in one of the desk drawers. Just as she was about to leave, her gaze fell on the disarray in the room—likely left behind from his rush to finish work.

With a sigh, she decided to tidy up the space. She carefully organized the scattered documents, but as she worked, her hand accidentally tugged open one of the drawers.

She was about to close it again when something inside caught her eye, freezing her in place.

Inside the drawer was a thick stack of letters. Love letters.

Celia’s breath hitched as she stared at them in disbelief. Without thinking, she reached out and picked them up, a mix of curiosity and astonishment flooding her mind.

Could Lucas have written these?

Lucas... writing love letters?

To whom?

Questions swirled chaotically in her head, tangling her thoughts. Lost in her confusion, she didn’t hear the sound of footsteps until it was too late.

Lucas had returned and now stood at the doorway. His sharp eyes immediately landed on the letters in her hands, and his expression shifted dramatically.

“What are you doing going through my things?” he demanded, his voice cold and laced with a rare tremor of panic.

Hearing Lucas’ sharp question, Celia snapped back to reality.

Noticing the love letters still in her hands, she quickly placed them back into the drawer and mumbled an explanation. “I was just trying to tidy up for you…”

But her attempt to explain didn’t soften his mood.

Instead, his tone grew colder. “Did you look at the contents?”

Celia froze, surprised that this was what he cared about most. Seeing his expression darken further, she quickly shook her head. “No, I didn’t read them.”

Her answer seemed to ease his tension slightly, but when he spoke again, his voice was still edged with irritation.

“Leave. And don’t touch my things again without my permission.”

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” she murmured, lowering her head. Without another word, she turned and left the study.

Back in her room, Celia lay on her bed, but her mind kept drifting back to the letters she had seen in the study.

She couldn’t recall ever hearing about Lucas being interested in someone. As far as she could remember, there had never been another woman in his life apart from herself and Yvonne.

So, who were those letters for?

Could they have been for her?

The thought sent her mind spiraling until exhaustion finally pulled her into sleep.

When she woke again, it was the middle of the night. A faint sound from the next room stirred her, and she realized Yvonne had returned.

Instantly alert, Celia moved closer to her door. The proximity allowed her to hear their conversation clearly, especially since they hadn’t shut their door.

Yvonne’s voice came first, brimming with delight. “I was only gone for two days, and you wrote me so many love letters?”

Her excitement was palpable, and it was quickly followed by Lucas’ response, warm and indulgent. His voice carried the same gentle tone he used to reserve for Celia in the past, back before she confessed her feelings to him.

“What? You don’t like them?”

Yvonne laughed softly, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I love them. You’ll have to write me one every day from now on.”

As Yvonne’s final, teasing words fell, the sound of muffled intimacy drifted from the next room, followed by the soft click of a closing door.

Celia quickly stepped away from her own door, retreating back to her bed. Lying down, she shut her eyes, but her face had turned pale.

For a brief moment, she couldn’t help but find herself both pathetic and laughable.

“Celia Quinn, what are you even thinking?” she whispered bitterly.

When she had seen Lucas’ panicked expression earlier, an absurd thought had flashed through her mind—that maybe, just maybe, those love letters were written for her.

But now, after hearing his conversation with Yvonne, she knew just how ridiculous that idea had been.

By the time the countdown reached three days, it was Yvonne’s birthday.

Lucas spared no expense, throwing an extravagant party in her honor. The guest list was long, filled with prominent figures, because this celebration wasn’t just about Yvonne’s birthday.

During the evening, Lucas made another major announcement:

In the near future, he and Yvonne would be hosting their engagement party.

As the crowd swarmed forward with congratulations, Celia stood frozen for a moment, stunned. Did he truly care for Yvonne this much?

In just three short months, he had already decided to marry her.

She let out a bitter laugh, glancing down at the gift in her hands. What she had originally planned as a parting gift for Lucas had, unexpectedly, turned into a congratulatory present for his engagement.

As the line of well-wishers thinned, Celia finally stepped forward, holding the small package out to him. She had resolved long ago to wish him happiness, no matter who he chose to be with.

But now, standing here, forcing those words out felt far more painful than she had imagined.

“Uncle,” she began, her voice low and strained, “congratulations on your engagement... I hope you’ll have a long and happy life together.”