Summary
On the third day after I ran away from my wedding, my fiancé committed suicide in our new home, leaving all his inheritance to me.
While sorting through his belongings, I saw the walls covered with photos of me, and mottled bloodstains on the floor.
His assistant told me, “Sir has liked you for many years.
“His depression was very severe. Only when he saw you, or thought of you, did he feel a little better…”
Each and every detail was both shocking and suffocating, and somehow, deeply sad.
So, given another chance, when faced with my childhood friend’s plan for me to run away from the wedding, I smiled and refused.
“I’m not leaving.”
I want to see just how foolish the man who loves me as if his life depends on it truly is.