I didn't know when Sam had arrived. His arm was still beneath my head, serving as a pillow.

I stared at him, confused.

Was it because I once complained that the hospital pillows were too hard… that he used his arm in their place?

He pressed his lips into a thin line and carefully pulled his stiff arm back.

"The police contacted your family. I know everything now," he said. "I misunderstood you yesterday. I'm sorry."

I continued to look at him. His arm looked stiff, the joints barely able to bend—he must have stayed like that for a long time.

He was the first to avert his gaze.

"The wedding… will use champagne roses. Everything you like. Every detail will be arranged just the way you wanted."

I blinked in surprise. "You confirmed this with the designer?"

"Melissa did," he replied.

Just then, my phone buzzed.

A message popped up from the wedding planner: [Claire, all details have been confirmed with Melissa. The invitations have been reprinted under her name.]

So… Sam didn't know yet. He didn't know the bride wasn't me.

But that was fine. Let it be a surprise.

I gave him a slight nod. "I wish you happiness."

His brows furrowed faintly. A flicker of confusion crossed his eyes, but he quickly returned to his usual indifferent expression.

"This time, I owe you," he said. "If there's anything you want, just tell me."

"There's no need," I replied, shaking my head. "I did it willingly."

Suddenly, his phone rang.

As soon as he saw that it was Melissa, he answered immediately. "Don't be afraid. I'll be right there."

After hanging up, he unconsciously fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. "I'll see you at the wedding."

"My gift will arrive, but I won't," I said with a smile. "Sam, I wish you a peaceful life, free of worries."

He frowned. "Don't joke like that. If you don't attend, who am I marrying? Focus on resting these next few days—I won’t disturb you. Just promise you’ll be healthy and there when it matters. And since we're getting married, I'll take responsibilities for you."

With that, he left in a hurry, not waiting for a reply.

I sat still, watching him walk away, staring until his figure completely disappeared from sight.

Then my phone lit up again with another message: [UN Peacekeeping Force Remains Recovery Unit: Miss Dunn, your flight in three days has been confirmed.]

I typed my reply: [Noted.]

The day of the wedding arrived sooner than expected.

Sam stood outside the bridal suite, holding a bouquet of champagne roses, the petals crumpled slightly from the pressure of his grip.

He had always hated this wedding. Yet now, an indescribable anticipation churned in his chest.

Minute by minute, time ticked by—until finally, the door opened.

He instinctively held his breath and turned toward the sound.

"Sam!" Melissa stepped out in a white wedding dress, cheeks flushed with excitement. "How do I look in this gown?"

Sam froze. His body went rigid.

"What are you doing here?" he asked sharply. "Why is it you?"

"Sam!" The best man came rushing over, panting. "Claire's wedding gift just arrived."

Inside the gift box was a necklace, one he had given me. Along with it was a card.

He opened it, and my familiar handwriting pierced straight through his heart.

"Returning what belongs to you. We're even now. Wishing you a lifetime of happiness."

The card crumpled in his tightening grip.

"Where is she?" he asked, voice trembling.

The best man opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, his phone rang urgently.

He answered. His expression turned pale in an instant.

"Sam… news just came in. The UN Peacekeeping Forces aircraft Claire was aboard… crashed overseas."