"Joanna, Joanna!" someone called, making me turn my head. She stood in the doorway with a pained face and heavy breathing, looking briefly at me, who was adjusting a white dress with a veil on my head. She didn't speak immediately but instead came closer to me and, with teary eyes, took my fingers to hold. "Please don't be surprised by the news I have for you."

I blinked uncomprehendingly, casting my eyes around the room and the doorway to ensure my best friend wasn't joking.

"Your husband-to-be is not in his room," she said, which didn't surprise me. My boyfriend was a man who got bored and nervous easily, so I guessed he went out for a bit to get some fresh air before waiting for me at the altar. Was that so?

"He's probably just taking a walk. Marriage is a thrilling thing. It's only natural–" I didn't get a chance to continue my sentence because my best friend shook her head hard, then handed me a piece of paper. "What's this?"

"Read it. It's what he left on the table in his room."

I unfolded the paper hesitantly. It wasn't fragrant like the letters he often sent to express his love for me. I thought it was just because he got nervous. This time might be different because, in a matter of hours, I would become his wife and spend a lifetime together.

However, the fragrance that used to always bring good memories because of what was also written on the surface of the paper was nothing this time except...

This couldn't be. I must be dreaming.

He said that he loved me. Alright, I could accept that. I wanted to have you, he added. So what else? He would be able to have me soon, right? However, instead of writing everything about his nervousness ahead of our wedding, which was only a matter of hours away, he wrote another sentence that automatically managed to shatter my feelings into pieces.

In the letter, he wrote, " Forgive me for making this decision. She is carrying my baby, and I must take responsibility." I knew who he was referring to well because I had witnessed the event just a few months before our wedding.

Call me naive or stupid for sticking around even though I knew my lover had cheated on me, fucking another woman—my stepsister—in the bed that would later become our wedding bed.

"No way," I muttered with tears in my eyes. I still held the letter in both trembling hands. "He's still in the room, right? Ma-maybe he's somewhere outside. Please find him. Tell him the time has come, and we must hurry."

My best friend just shook her head with a sad look on her face, then took me into her arms and let me release the tears I had been holding back.

He was gone. Really gone, and I didn't know what my life would have been like if this marriage had never happened.

After the incident where I caught him fucking that woman right in front of my eyes who watched him climax, I begged him not to leave. I let him do what he liked, even if he insisted on marrying that woman; it didn't matter as long as he didn't leave me.

I couldn't live without him. It was impossible because he was the only one who loved me sincerely. That was what he always said and done. He treated me nicely, and no one could do it but him.

"Joanna, forget him. He doesn't deserve you. Let him go," my best friend said, patting my back. I shook my head hard and ignored the tears starting to ruin my makeup. We were supposed to be married in a few hours, not like this. I didn't want him to leave. I wanted him to come back, marry me, and after that, it was up to him if he wanted to fuck that bitch in our bed every day. I wouldn't make a sound.

"No, no... we were supposed to get married. Please find him. Bring him to me, please..."

However, I realized no one would accept my stupid and naive request. My groom-to-be had left for another woman, and I shouldn't be crying over him. I shouldn't be this stupid, but why was this pain so intense that it almost killed me?

***

I asked for some time alone, and here I was. On the rooftop of the building that was going to be the venue for the union of my love and my future husband, I chose to leave behind a gaping wound that I wasn't sure when it would heal.

This wound was even worse than when I caught him sleeping with that woman.

If anyone said that he was just playing around or that he was just trying to satisfy his insatiable desire for this old-fashioned me, then that statement was wrong. He only had intense sex with one woman, which resulted in a seed in her womb and made the man who would become my husband dumped me and our marriage.

I looked straight ahead, blurred by tears. All I could see were the glowing lights of the building, which looked tiny from up here. The cityscape, which sometimes looked beautiful from this height, was also suffocating.

What was I going to do here? Was it to end my life? If not, was there anything else I could do to survive after such a heartbreaking, humiliating event?

My cell phone rang repeatedly, and when I picked it up, the person on the other end was scolding me for my misfortune today. To my family, I'd only brought shame. I hadn't invited them at all, but that was what I got.

I stepped onto the footbridge, struggling somewhat because of my dress and still reluctant to take off. Even though the wedding never happened, I wanted to remember when I was so beautiful in a dress like this—the most beautiful dress I'd ever worn, because I'd never have this even if it was just a tutu.

Even though life wasn't on my side, this dress still gave me sweet memories to cherish.

"Hey, what are you doing there?" asked a bass voice that I didn't recognize but made me turn around and look for the voice's whereabouts. There he was. A tall, well-built man wearing a tuxedo stood not far from where I was.

Had he also just been abandoned by his girlfriend on his wedding day? Why would he wear wedding clothes and wander into this place if he had to get married?

"Are you suicidal? Why? Your lover left you at the altar?" I didn't answer his question. "Look, go downstairs, take off that wedding dress, then move on. No one will pity you, and don't let them do that."

"It's none of your business, so don't be a smartass!" I muttered, which made him flash a cynical smile. "Go away! Leave me alone."

"Why should I leave? I didn't come here to get close to you, but because–"

I walked backward as he stepped forward, forgetting I was in a place I shouldn't have been.

No, the gown made me slip. Was I going to die? How did it feel to die? Did it hurt? I even forgot what brought me to this place, and all I remembered was that my body was darting downward, and the roof of the building seemed to be getting farther and farther away.

I was probably going to die. I closed my eyes, which were already shedding tears, and was ready for it all to end. However, I swallowed back the narratives that had gnawed at my mind when a pair of sturdy arms held me comfortably.

My eyes opened, and the man's face appeared not far from me. His pair of hazel irises looked deeply at me, and I didn't want to close my eyes. I didn't want to die.

"Are you serious about ending your life?" he asked deeply and heavily. I took a breath before letting it out. Time seemed to slow down instantly, and I shook my head.

"No, no, no. I wanna live long. I wanna get married; I want someone to kiss me with love and feel what it's like to fuck all night, every day," I replied, which I realized was foolish. It wasn't going to happen. Who would marry an old-fashioned, unspecialized girl like me? Who would kiss me lovingly and make love to me? I was too ugly and had never even received a touch. "I want to feel loved."

"I'll grant it, then. Except for the last request," he said near my ear.

I felt my back hit a surface quite hard but bounced a little, and when I realized, I was in a room, on a comfortable bed, with a well-built man who had me under him.

I couldn't forget the look in those hazel irises—deep but cold, as if to say everything was fine.

My cheeks heated up. It must have been the alcohol I'd been drinking recklessly. When I regained even half-consciousness, it was clear that the man wasn't just clinging me under him and looking at me but was moving rhythmically on top of me, and at that moment, both pain and pleasure began to run through every nerve in my body.

It felt so damn good that it got me moan so hard.

What was going on? Were we making love? What I was feeling was fucking incredible and... I wanted it. More and more, and he was giving it to me.

No, no, no. This must be a dream. It couldn't really happen, and I was just dreaming, right?uik

The distinctive scent of lavender filled the room where I was still closed, and I woke up to the fragrance that wafted into my nostrils. Where was I? Was I still in the room of the man who had miraculously saved me? Or was I in heaven now because falling from such a tall building couldn't have saved me.

That man... where was he? I should have thanked him for saving me even though he managed to take a lot of things away from me—he had taken away the virginity I had guarded for so long and without my permission.

I got up from the bed, a nightgown clinging to my body as if he had never touched me. If not, then what happened last night was it just a dream?

"Hello... is there anyone? Hey... are you in the bathroom?" There was no answer, and when I opened the door, I saw that the bathroom was empty. I sighed in despair, returned to the bed, and found a piece of paper on the nightstand with a short message.

[Finish the juice and vitamins. Go down to the restaurant and order food by mentioning your room number. I've paid for everything for you. Then go home because your parents are worried about you.]

Impossible! They weren't worried about me at all, and just last night, Dad called, swore, and cursed me for doing something wrong that made that bastard cancel the marriage.

It was only natural that my family was so upset. My ex-boyfriend was one of the most successful businessmen in Eastonville, and being his wife was the dream of many women. I didn't know what made him want to marry me at that time, although in the end, the temptation of that slut was far greater, and I managed to grow the seed of love in her womb.

I rubbed my face roughly and got up, looking at my face, which looked pale and unusual. Perhaps it was the alcohol I had recklessly consumed last night that made my face lackluster, as if it had lost its zest for life.

Indeed. That was the truth. I lost the will to survive and... wait! What was this?

I felt a red mark on the side of my neck. It looked like two strange dots that I had never seen before. Each side looked red, like it was brand new, and could have been an insect bite. However, how could a hotel that is this luxurious not maintain hygiene?

I checked the bed and blankets; they looked fine, clean, and smelled good. There was also no sign that I had fuck with that guy. Was last night a dream, or was it real? If it was a dream, why did it feel so vivid? I even still feel throbbing in my puss every time I recall the incident.

My cell phone rang. It was Dad again, and I wasn't interested in taking the call because I would get even more flak. It would be better if I just disappeared.

I didn't know what was going through my mind last night to ask for a longer life, a loving kiss, marriage, and love. I must have been crazy. That man was even crazier because he said that he would grant everything. However, where was he now? Why did he just run away as if nothing happened between us?

What if I had his baby after last night? I need his responsibility, of course.

A message arrived from my best friend. I read it immediately and still didn't feel like replying because I was sure she wasn't asking out of curiosity but at my father's behest.

I didn't want to go home. Could I stay in this place for a while? Where else would that man be? If I could beg or whatever he asked, I would as long as he took me far away instead of leaving me here alone. He promised, and I expected proof. But he wasn't here. He probably ran away, like my ex did, and once again, I had to accept the reality of being hurt and healed all by myself.

***

I looked at the room I was in now. Although it wasn't very nice, it was still clean, and according to the owner, it was quiet, so I could do my job well.

I wasn't a permanent employee of any company. Finding a job for someone who wasn't good-looking like me wasn't easy. So, no matter how much experience and skill I had, the company wouldn't consider hiring me. Moreover, they often use female employees as mistresses, and I was against that the most.

That was why I only did freelance work—not important work. As a design graduate, I created a raw design for a building or arranged the interior of a room in a company. I'd been doing this only if someone used my services. If not, then I had to make do with the few cents I had.

Luckily, Dad was still willing to take me in, even if my stepmother wasn't.

"Are you out of your mind? Your father terrorized me for the past few days, asking me to take you back, and you casually rented an apartment without saying anything. You have a heart, Jo." My best friend was bombarding me with nagging on the other side while I was still busy organizing the industrial design room with one large room.

I had spent thousands of dollars buying everything I needed to make this room more comfortable for me to live in for a while, if not forever.

"Don't say anything to him. Just say that you didn't know about my whereabouts after that night. Easy, right?"

"Are you insane?? Where's your address? I'll drop by at lunchtime," she said. I immediately gave her the address on the condition that she would never reveal it to my family.

She came right at lunchtime, bringing a few packets for us to enjoy together. Many stories flowed, and I shared them with her, including about the mysterious man.

"So you didn't see him again?" she asked with an obvious look of curiosity. "I think you were hallucinating at the time. You said you made love, but when you woke up, you were fully clothed, and there was no trace of your lovemaking there. So, are you honestly saying this?"

"Do you think I'm lying?"

"Because you were drunk when you left, and I'm not sure what happened to you," she said as she enjoyed the burger in her hand. I didn't tell her everything, just the things that made sense.

If I said I jumped off a rooftop and a man rescued and took me to a hotel room, no human in any part of the world would believe me, and they would definitely think it was a hoax.

So, it was enough to save me from a horny man and take me to a hotel.

"I was serious. And when I woke up, I only found this," I said as I showed her the paper the man had left on the nightstand. "He just left after dumping me, and I'm not going to stay quiet. I'm going to find him so he can take responsibility for what he did to me. I swear about it."