I'll never forget the first time I met Summer; it was right in Matt's office.

Though I was on the mend, I still needed some downtime, so after half a year at the wellness center, my first stop back in Northside was a surprise visit to Matt.

I swung open the door to Matt's office to find a girl crying her eyes out while Matt looked like he was at his wit's end.

The creaking door caught their attention. Matt's face broke into a smile when he saw me, then quickly turned to panic as he snapped at the girl, "Aren't you gone yet?"

She kept her head down, avoiding my gaze, as she walked past me, her scent of rose perfume trailing behind her. It didn't take me a second to realize it was Summer.

Once Summer was gone, Matt seemed to breathe easier. "Ava, you're back! Weren't you due back tomorrow?"

As Matt approached, the wrinkles in his suit and the faint smell of roses became noticeable.

I recoiled slightly, "I missed you, so I came back early. That was Summer just now, wasn't it?"

Matt paused, then decided not to hide it. "Yes, but you won't be seeing her again. I've just had her resign."

I hugged Matt, trying to overlay his scent with mine, murmuring a soft "Okay."

I had once hoped Summer could look after Matt in my absence, but now I wanted to erase all traces of her. The way Matt had looked at her in that photo chilled me to the bone.

Just like that, Summer was erased from Matt's company. Our friends all sent their well-wishes for my recovery and our rekindled romance, never mentioning Summer again—as if she'd never existed.

But if she had really left before I got back, why then would Matt have called off our wedding for her?

When I arrived home, Dad and Jack immediately checked on me. Hearing I had fainted, Jack raged, "That jerk Matt hasn't come back to his house yet, no clue where he's run off to. Don't worry, Ava, I'll set him straight as soon as I find him."

Mom and I exchanged looks; it seemed Matt had kept his hospital visit from his family. Worrying Jack might do something rash, we kept silent, and Mom suggested I rest.

My room was spotless, all signs of the morning's wedding prep gone, yet Matt's presence was everywhere.

The mug I used was made by Matt, crafted from a series of failed attempts, with our initials engraved on it. I can still recall how proud he was when he handed it to me: "Ava, as long as you have this mug, we're together for life."

Funny, isn't it? Porcelain just shatters when dropped. How could it last a lifetime?

Most of the stuffed animals in my room were prizes from our arcade claw machine adventures.

Matt was a claw machine wizard. We'd snagged ninety-nine toys, swearing to make it last forever. Sadly, those promises fizzled out like soap bubbles.

I found my phone dead. After charging it, I saw numerous missed calls—from friends, family, and Matt.

Matt's message was just a terse text: [Ava, I'm sorry.]

Matt's cruelty was clear; he betrayed me without even a reason.

The pain swept over me again and worn out, I closed my eyes and drifted off into a restless sleep, filled with nightmares.

My dream swirled with sweet memories of times with Matt, interspersed with Summer's timid face and Matt pushing me aside to go to her. It ended on my birthday a year ago, with Matt getting a call and rushing out saying it was urgent. That same heart-shaped icon next to today's call—it was the same number.

I woke up with a start, my heart pounding.

When I woke, it was deep into the night. I logged into all my social media and finally found that familiar icon among Matt's followers on Twitter named "OneHeart."

I opened her profile and scrolled back to my last birthday, finding a telling post: "My hero has come to my rescue."

The picture was of a hand, one I'd held countless times.

That day, my 25th birthday, Matt and I had planned to ride the Ferris wheel—a tradition since he first kissed me there when we were both 18.

We had just reached the amusement park when Matt received that call. He said work was calling him away urgently and left, promising to return soon.

I waited until the park gates closed, but Matt never returned. Later, he called: "Ava, work's a mess. Go on home without me."

That was the moment 25-year-old Matt broke a promise made to 18-year-old Ava. Even then, I was no longer his priority.

The deeper I dove into Summer's Twitter, the more pathetic I felt. Although I couldn't see Matt, his traces were everywhere in her posts.

Everything I had, Summer had too—the mugs, the stuffed animals, even not being the sole recipient of kisses on the Ferris wheel.

And what I didn't have, Summer did—he shared street food with her, and wandered through night markets with her.

And to think, I had believed Matt loved only me.

Tears overwhelmed me, and exhausted, I fell back to sleep.

When I next awoke, it was already morning, and the System notified me, "Host life expectancy now 24 hours."

After breakfast, my parents, Jack, and I went to confront the Hayes family about yesterday's debacle—we needed some closure, to not let the issue slide.

Mr. and Mrs. Hayes welcomed us warmly, their house still decorated with the festive red wedding banners that now seemed to mock the situation.

Mrs. Hayes took my hand immediately, her guilt evident as she apologized, "Ava, our son messed up, but don't worry, you're the only daughter-in-law we acknowledge."

I calmly withdrew my hand, fully aware that the Hayes family valued me more for what I represented than for who I was.

Mom looked at me, concern etching her face, "Ava, what are you thinking? Do you really want to stay tied to that jerk, Matt?"

I wanted to—not for love but to survive.

The System had hinted that marrying Matt before my termination could give me a second chance at life.

So, I nodded, "Yes, I still want to marry Matt, but I need him to go with me to get the marriage license today."

Mrs. Hayes initially smiled at my decision, but her face fell when I mentioned getting the license today. "Ava, Matt hasn't come home yet. Maybe give him a moment to think? You two have over twenty years of history. Just give him some time, and he'll see sense."

Just then, the butler announced, "Young Master is home."

Mrs. Hayes's face lit up, "Ava, see? Matt's back. I'll get you two down to the courthouse right now."

A wave of relief washed over me—maybe I had a shot after all. But as Matt entered, so did Summer, right by his side.