Jenna Wilson was fighting with her boyfriend again.
She stood at my doorstep, drenched from the storm.
Sobbing, she threw herself into Vincent Brown's arms and declared petulantly,
We're done. Will you marry me?
You've always had feelings for me anyway. I've decided to marry youlet that jerk regret it.
I opened my mouth to speak, but Vincent subtly shook his head.
Don't provoke her right now, his eyes seemed to say.
He thought I'd cause a scene like I used to.
I met his gaze calmly.
I was just going to ask if she's staying the night.
The guest room needs to be prepared.
Vincent froze.
Clearly not expecting this composure.
He didn't know.
In one month, the System would send me back to the real world.
Rain lashed against the windows.
I recalled the System's recent warning,
You have approximately thirty days until repatriation.
That's the maximum extension I secured for you.
Use this time to tie up loose ends. Say your goodbyes.
After all, once you're gone, everyone here will forget you ever existed.
Sharp knocks yanked me from my thoughts.
Vincent emerged from his study just then.
Being closest to the door, he answered it.
A soaked figure flung herself against his chest.
Jenna's cries came in ragged gasps.
Vincent, that jerk was at the club all night again.
I can't take it anymore.
I'm ending it. Marry me, okay? You've always cared for me anyway.
Let that bastard stew in regret.
Vincent instinctively glanced my way.
Frowning, he gently pushed Jenna back, his voice low but firm.
Stop this, Jenna.
Come inside and get dry first.
Jenna didn't move, tears welling in her eyes.
You don't want me either?
You promised you'd always protect me, that I'd always come first in your heart.
She stepped back, eyes blazing. You're a liar too.
With that, she dashed straight into the elevator.
Outside, the downpour intensified.
Thunder crashed, each rumble seeming to vibrate in Vincent's chest.
A moment later,
The man who had been lingering at the doorway wordlessly grabbed his keys and rushed after her.
I didn't try to stop him.
Not after what happened last time.
That memory was still fresh.
Another stormy night.
Jenna had run off just like this.
But Vincent had a crucial investor call starting in minutes.
Swallowing my hurt, I'd grabbed an umbrella and stopped him.
I'll find Jenna.
The police found her first.
Jenna had encountered a group of drunk men. It had nearly turned violent.
When Vincent arrived at the scene, he didn't even look at my drenched, shivering form.
Just wrapped his coat around her, holding her close, whispering reassurances.
I thought I'd grown numb to it.
But a few days later, passing by Vincent's study,
I overheard his assistant reporting,
The investigation cleared Ms. Ali.
No connection to those assailants.
Alithat's me.
My fingers trembled, accidentally nudging the door open.
Vincent looked startled for just a second before his expression smoothed over.
Sorry, Ali.
But it was hard not to suspect you.
You've held onto resentment towards Jenna for so long.
Since that day,
I never interfered again.

The door hadn't closed properly.
The late autumn wind, sharp and cold with rain, seeped inside.
Puffball, stirred by the chill in his dog bed.
He padded out and rubbed sleepily against my leg.
Coming back to myself, I scooped up the one-year-old Bichon Frise and shut the door firmly against the weather.
Rain makes natural for perfect white noise.
Cuddling Puffball, I returned to bed and fell asleep quickly.
No more lying awake over unworthy people or pointless drama.
This marked my third year successfully completing the storyline the tragic second male lead, Vincent Brown.
But six months ago, we'd nearly gotten engaged.
That's when the female lead, Jenna Wilson, reappeared.
Her turbulent, on-again-off-again relationship with her boyfriend hit another crisis.
Every fight sent her running to Vincent for solace.
Our story began unraveling then.
My repatriation countdown began its final countdown too.

Just last week, Vincent had planned a romantic getaway for us at a secluded island resort down south.
As we prepared to leave,
Jenna appeared at our door in pajamas and slippers, her eyes puffy from crying.
Where are you two going?
You have to take me with you!
I need to disappear for a few days. Let Jack Jones panic sweat it out when he can't find me.
Vincent's first reaction wasn't to question the context of her fight with Jack.
Nor did he first consider whether bringing her was appropriate.
He noticed her flimsy nightclothes, immediately took off his jacket, and wrapped it around her shoulders.
Standing there in the chilly doorway, I heard him say to me,
Jenna doesn't really have any other close friends here in the city besides me.
She's got nowhere else to go.
Bringing her along won't change our plans much. We're driving anyway.
The hotels, the activitiesI'd personally curated and booked everything.