Love Me After I’m Gone

When I stepped aside and handed the starting spot on the esports team to the guy Zara Moody had always loved, she saw how obedient I had been and moved our wedding up as a reward.

But at the ceremony, the man she could never forget suddenly pulled out a knife and cut himself, jealousy burning in his eyes.

"Please don't marry him!"

Zara, who was usually so calm, instantly lost her composure. She turned to me, panic written all over her face as she begged me to help save him.

Every guest in the room was watching, waiting to see how I would react.

I didn't argue or cause a scene.

Instead, I quietly stepped aside and gave up the groom's place.

When Zara saw how reasonable I was, just like always, her eyes reddened at the corners.

"I promise this is the last time I'll ever put you through something like this. After the ceremony, we'll go register our marriage."

What she forgot was that this was the 96th time she had hurt me.

And I had no intention of spending the rest of my life with her.

I was only waiting for three more promises.

Once I repaid the debt I owed her for saving my grandmother's life all those years ago, I would walk away from her for good.

After that, we would never see each other again.

"He just slinked off the stage like that?"

"What else was he supposed to do? He was always just Charles's stand-in. Things are finally back where they belong."

"Look at them. They're perfect together."

Following the direction of the guests' gazes, I looked toward the stage.

Zara Moody and Charles Tingey walked side by side, their fingers tightly intertwined. They looked like something out of a fairytale. They were both stunning, a perfect match.

The ceremony hadn't started yet.

Staff members kept walking onto the stage, replacing the signs and decorations around the hall. They even handed out brand new invitations to everyone.

I got one, too.

When I opened it, the bride's name was still Zara.

But the groom's name had changed to Charles.

Zara noticed everything.

She knew perfectly well that Charles's earlier suicide attempt had just been a jealous stunt to get her attention. Still, she shot him an indulgent look.

"Charles, you're way too reckless," she said, half scolding. "You're not allowed to do that again. What if you actually hurt yourself?"

All her concern was focused on whether Charles might get injured.

She had completely forgotten that this wedding had been meant for me.

It was a reward she promised after I gave up my professional career.

She also didn't know that marrying her had been the wish I wrote down every year on my birthday and sealed inside a glass bottle, a wish I never had the courage to show her.

Only after every trace of me had been erased from the venue did the ceremony finally begin.

But when it came