A year after their breakup, Isabella Gibson called Marcus Harlan for the first time. She only said two things.

The first was, "Happy wedding."

The second was, "You promised you'd be my pallbearer when I die."

***

"The call about your euthanasia approval was forwarded to my phone."

Marcus's voice was chillingly cold on the other end. "Why did you make me find you like this?"

In the solitary room, Isabella pressed her nose as blood seeped through her fingers, smearing red across the phone screen.

Her fingers shook as she wiped the blood away, staring at Marcus's name, then whispered hoarsely, "I'm sorry."

Marcus was silent for a moment. "Isabella, we ended things a year ago."

Her vision suddenly blurred.

He was reminding her, but how could it ever slip her mind?

One year ago, during a stormy evening, Marcus unexpectedly told her they were over.

She spent the entire night standing outside his door in the rain, hoping to see him.

Finally, a neighbor informed her that Marcus had left the country immediately after the call.

Ultimately, he didn't even leave her an explanation or a farewell.

If it weren't for this phone call, she figured he wouldn't have contacted her again.

Isabella stared at the chilly rain beyond the window, as if reliving that moment. Her voice caught in her throat.

After a lengthy silence, she finally responded, "I know."

"If you're planning to end your life, do it far away. There's no need to inform me," Marcus said icily before hanging up, showing no compassion.

The phone's dial tone echoed like a drumbeat, pounding in Isabella's chest.

She crouched there for a long time, then got up and washed the blood from her face.

As cold water splashed against her skin, the phone rang once more. This time from a Swiss euthanasia clinic.

"We're sorry for reaching out to your emergency contact earlier. We couldn't reach you at midday."

"It's okay," Isabella answered tiredly.

She had been on a flight to Switzerland at noon.

"You'll need the latest medical documentation for euthanasia to proceed. Local examinations in Switzerland are required."

Staring at her pale reflection in the mirror, Isabella murmured, "Got it."

Once she ended the call, she flagged down a taxi to the hospital.

While the car drove down the streets, the majestic Alps stood tall in the distance.

This wintry city, once a destination she and Marcus had often fantasized about visiting, had surprisingly become the final stop of her journey.

The test results came back fast, blood cancer with bone metastasis. There was nothing left to do.

Under the sympathetic looks from the doctors, Isabella instinctively tucked the diagnosis into her bag.

Just as she was about to leave, her footsteps abruptly stopped, and her breath hitched.

She never thought she'd see Marcus again!

He stood at the end of the hallway, wearing the coat she'd bought him. A year later, he looked even more self-assured.

His face was as striking as ever, but his gaze was cold and detached.

Each feature had haunted her dreams for a year, waking her with tears.

Now, seeing him again, her vision blurred—memories crashing over her like a tide.

She recalled the 1,530 origami stars Marcus folded for her, the seven years of unbroken morning and evening greetings, and the time he drove 400 kilometers through a snowstorm just because she said she missed him.

She believed their love was eternal until the moment he turned his back on her for the first and final time, dismissing her pleas as he departed.

Isabella had once believed that if she tried hard enough, she could eventually erase these memories.

However, the moment Marcus appeared, the pain she'd tried so hard to bury resurfaced, almost overwhelming her.

She bit her lip. The whole country suddenly felt so small.

Marcus noticed her as well. A brief hesitation, then he was coming toward her, brow furrowed.

Her heart tightened. Before she could say anything, Marcus cut in coldly, "I told you to stay away from me."

His face was icy, his sharp brows making him seem distant.

Isabella gradually clenched her fists. "I'm only here for a physical exam."

"A physical exam?" Marcus replied, clearly unconvinced. "Stop kidding yourself. I told you a year ago. It's all over. Stop holding on. That's just pathetic."

Her face grew pale.

A year ago, she couldn't accept the way things ended. She tried many ways to track him down.

But now, things had changed.

She gazed at Marcus, her throat tightening. Before she could utter a word, a voice interrupted.

"Marcus."

Isabella froze as a woman walked up and slipped her arm through Marcus's.

The woman looked at her briefly and then turned to Marcus with a smile. "Marcus, who is this?"

She didn't recognize Isabella, although Isabella was familiar with her.

She was Laura Meane, Marcus's girlfriend.

Marcus's lips twitched slightly. "She's..."

"Neighbor," Isabella interrupted softly, saying, "We used to be neighbors."

Marcus hesitated, his eyes growing darker. But he remained silent.

Laura smiled and stepped closer, extending her hand. "Hi, I'm Marcus's fiancée."

She emphasized the word "fiancée".

Isabella dropped her gaze and spotted a ring adorning Laura's finger.

The pink diamond sparkled brilliantly in the sunlight, piercing Isabella's eyes with its radiance.

She exclaimed, "You're engaged?"

Laura beamed. "Yes, Marcus proposed to me last month."

"Oh... congrats."

Isabella glanced at Marcus, trying to sound casual. "When's the big day?"

Marcus observed her briefly before stating, "July 1st."

Isabella was paralyzed, as if a sharp blade had pierced her heart.

Her smile vanished completely.

July 1st.

That was the date of her euthanasia.

July 1st held a deep significance.

It marked Isabella's birthday and the anniversary of Marcus's proposal to her three years earlier.

That night was unforgettable for her. The candlelight danced intermittently, and the cake was adorned with her beloved starry sky design.

At 23, Marcus knelt down before her, respectfully laying out all everything he owned.

"Here is my car, my property deeds, and this card holds all my assets."

In the dim glow of the candlelight, his youthful face shone as he inhaled deeply and gazed at her with trembling bravery.

"I used to believe that the timing and place were important, but I've come to understand that the only thing that truly matters is you. I know you've always dreamed of going to Switzerland, but I can't wait any longer. We can have our wedding there. What I need to know now is...

"Isabella, will you marry me?"

Memories flashed in her mind like a film reel.

They were now in Switzerland, just as he'd once promised.

Marcus was heading toward matrimony, while she was heading toward her own demise.

Isabella glanced at him. His face was unchanged, but the past was gone.

She inhaled deeply, feeling tears raging within her heart, though none escaped her eyes.

She offered a smile and said, "Congratulations. I hope you find happiness."

The wind roared through the hospital hallway, as if mourning someone unseen.

Once she left the hospital, Isabella headed to the euthanasia clinic to hand in the documents.

A staff member took them, stating, "A family member needs to be present for euthanasia..."

He glanced at the empty spot behind Isabella, his eyes lingering.

Isabella nodded. "I'll manage on my own."

The staff member merely sighed softly and said, "You have three days left... Make the most of your final moments."

Once Isabella left the clinic, her phone rang with a call from Marcus.

She hesitated for a moment before picking up.

There was only the sound of faint breathing on the other end, yet tears filled Isabella's eyes.

She silently rebuked herself for her vulnerability, took a deep breath, and softly murmured, "Marcus..."

Laura's voice suddenly broke through. "It's not him, it's me."

Isabella snapped to attention as if doused with cold water. "Sorry, can I help you with anything?"

"Marcus and I are going dress shopping tomorrow for the wedding. His sense of style is terrible, and I don't have any girlfriends around. Would you mind helping me pick one out?"

Laura's words dripped with sweetness over the phone.

Isabella clutched her phone tightly, feeling an impulse to decline. "I..."

Before she could finish, Marcus interrupted with an indifferent tone. "10:00 a.m. tomorrow. I'll send you the address."

He ended the call abruptly, leaving Isabella no opportunity to decline.

A few moments later, Isabella received the address and 800 dollars. Alongside it was a message from Marcus.

"Labor fee. I don't want Laura to be upset. Please."

Isabella stared at the message, frozen in place for a long time, before finally responding. "Okay."

The following day, she showed up at the bridal shop as promised.

Seated on the sofa, she observed Laura flipping through wedding dress catalogs, smiling and asking Marcus for his opinion.

Marcus looked at Laura with affection, nodding in agreement with each choice.

Isabella stared blankly, a distant memory surfacing in her mind.

Marcus had once shared wedding dress pictures with her, promising with a smile that she would be the most beautiful bride in the world.

Back then, his eyes held such a depth of tenderness. She was certain they would one day walk down the aisle together.

She never imagined that a year later, she'd be the ex-girlfriend watching Marcus's joy from afar.

Isabella felt sharp pains in her chest. She tried to look away, but Laura held the chosen photo right in front of her.

"His taste is awful. This one is clearly stunning, but he refuses it. What do you think?"

Isabella glanced down and realized Laura had picked the very design she had once adored. Was that why Marcus rejected it?

Isabella suddenly said, "You still remember..."

"Remember what?"

Marcus raised an eyebrow and interrupted in a monotone, "I just think the style is too outdated."

Isabella gazed at his impassive expression.

After a lengthy silence, she agreed with a nod, "Yes... It is outdated."

The style was outdated, and so was she.

She tried to smile politely and move on, but her lips refused to move. Instead, she lowered her head to conceal her face.

Suddenly, a warm trickle touched her nose. Bright blood dripped onto the catalog.

She froze and reached to wipe it away when Marcus suddenly stood up.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked.

Isabella's heart skipped a beat, and she swiftly turned her face away to hide it.

Marcus approached her and snatched the catalog from her grasp, his eyebrows knitting together as he noticed the bloodstains.

It was only then that Isabella understood his concern was for the catalog.

"I'm sorry... I accidentally stained it," she said, her voice quivering.

Laura quickly offered her a tissue and scolded Marcus, "Why are you fussing over that? Ms. Gibson, do you need to visit the hospital?"

Isabella shook her head and grabbed a tissue to stop her nosebleed. "It's just a cold. It will go away soon."

Telling her ex-fiancé, who was on the brink of marrying someone else, that she had a terminal illness would only serve to irritate him.

Marcus remained silent, merely frowning at her pallid complexion.

She headed to the restroom to manage the bleeding.

When she returned, Laura was already wearing a wedding dress.

Instead of the one she had talked about earlier, she chose a different gown and twirled with a grin before Marcus.

"How do I look?" she asked.

Marcus gave her a gentle gaze as he said, "Stunning."

His eyes reflected her image as if she was the only person in his world at that moment.

Isabella suddenly felt overwhelmed. "I have to go. There's something I need to take care of," she whispered.

"Hold on!" Laura exclaimed. "Marcus and I don't know many people in Switzerland. Now that we've reconnected with an old friend, would you be my bridesmaid?"

Isabella's fingers shook. "I'm sorry, my visa will expire by that time."

She couldn't bear the thought of being a bridesmaid for her ex-boyfriend's wedding.

Laura sighed, visibly let down. "That's too bad. Let's catch up again when we have the chance."

Isabella managed a faint smile. "Alright."

She grabbed her bag and walked out. Before leaving, she glanced back at Marcus one final time.

He remained on the sofa, not bothering to look at her, as indifferent as he had been the day they ended things.

The automatic door clicked shut.

It entirely divided her and Marcus into separate realms.

Isabella suppressed her tears and headed toward the hotel.

The Swiss streets were quiet, but those she passed wore peaceful smiles.

While walking, Isabella unexpectedly noticed a tavern.

She paused for a moment before entering.

She once loved drinking but had stopped after becoming ill. Wanting to get drunk, she discovered that even a single bottle made her feel nauseous.

As she struggled to settle the bill, Isabella spotted a wall of photos behind the bartender, all featuring couples.

The bearded bartender gave her a friendly smile and said, "Couples get free drinks if they take a picture here."

Isabella started to shake her head, ready to mention she was by herself, when her eyes locked onto something.

At the top of the photo wall, she saw an image of Marcus and Laura.

The date on it read, March 11, 2024.

That was back when she and Marcus were still a couple!

Her mind went blank in a flash, as if a buzzing noise had wiped her thoughts away.

She froze in place, a chill rising from her heart and gradually seeping through her veins.

The bartender continued speaking, but she couldn't hear a single word.

In shock, she stepped outside, only to be pursued by a man. "I've been watching you. Want to come over and get acquainted?"

Isabella shook her head to decline, but the man seized her arm. "Do me a favor," he said, attempting to drag her inside.

"Let go of me!"

Isabella resisted fiercely, nearly being shoved into a car.

Suddenly, another person showed up, pulled the man off her, and punched him to the ground, their voice cold as ice.

"Get lost!"

As Marcus watched the man retreat, he turned to Isabella with a frown.

"Swiss taverns aren't safe places. If you're not aware of the basic safety precautions, you should head home before I have to spend more time rescuing you."

Isabella looked at him with a blank expression, pausing before she finally replied, "Thank you."

Her voice was rough. "But perhaps it was fortunate I came here so you could save me."

Marcus frowned again. "If you have something to say, say it."

A mocking grin appeared on Isabella's face. "March 11, 2024. I had no clue you were already with Laura back then."

Her red, tear-filled eyes fixated on him. "So, Marcus, even you have been unfaithful."

Marcus's dark eyes grew profound, and he remained silent.

Tears began to fill Isabella's eyes, and she could no longer maintain her smile. She pushed him forcefully. "Say something!"

Her fingertips shook with emotion, but Marcus merely stepped back, looking at her calmly. "You saw the evidence, didn't you?"

His icy words silenced all her responses.

Isabella stared at him, unable to believe what she was hearing.

Marcus raised his eyes to meet hers and said in a monotone, "I was unfaithful. I fell for Laura even before we ended things. That's the truth you wanted. Does it make you happy?"

A stabbing ache hit Isabella's heart, leaving her breathless and her throat tight, unable to speak.

She believed she could confront the past with composure, convinced that Marcus no longer had the power to hurt her.

But she discovered he could still be incredibly cruel.

Isabella bit her lip sharply, yet the tears flowed unchecked.

She briskly wiped them away. "Alright, I understand."

As she turned to walk away, her vision blurred suddenly, and she gently crumpled to the floor.

In a haze, she heard Marcus calling her name.

When she regained consciousness, she found herself in the hospital.

She looked up at the white ceiling before shifting her gaze to Marcus, who stood by her bed with her medical records in hand and an icy expression on his face.

Isabella's heart skipped a beat when Marcus looked up at her with a cold gaze and said, "When you have a fever, you should stay home and rest. Don't go out."

The Swiss doctors, respecting patient confidentiality, hadn't informed Marcus of her condition.

Isabella returned to the present moment and exhaled with relief. "I understand. Thank you."

"Being unwell means you need someone to care for you," Marcus said, glancing over at her. "I couldn't reach your parents."

Isabella stiffened. After a long silence, she quietly said, "They're no longer here."

Marcus was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

Isabella gazed out the window, her eyes distant.

"Two months after we broke up, my parents were killed in a car crash."

Two months after that, she was diagnosed with an illness, leading to endless rounds of chemotherapy and a seemingly endless darkness.

Marcus's expression turned blank as he looked intently at Isabella's face.

Following a prolonged, tense silence, Marcus finally unclenched his fists and rasped, "I'm sorry. I wasn't aware of that."

Isabella let out a bitter chuckle. "We're not connected anymore. It's none of your concern."

Marcus went quiet once more. He lowered his eyes and set a lunchbox down next to Isabella.

"Eat something first."

When Isabella opened the box, she found all her favorite dishes inside, which made her heart skip a beat.

She took two bites, feeling a sharp sting in her nose that intensified with each bite.

Setting her fork down, she inquired, "There's something else you want to say, isn't there?"

Marcus's eyes grew dim, but he managed to say, "Laura was thrilled to see you. I hope you'll reconsider being her bridesmaid. I'll handle your visa issues. Just tell me what else you need—anything is fine."

Isabella's fingers slowly clenched. "You want me to go too?"

"I don't want to disappoint Laura."

Isabella was speechless. The delightful meal she had just eaten now left a bitter taste in her mouth.

She thought, "Marcus, oh Marcus. When did you become so cold? You ended things with such indifference, and now you're merciless enough to force me to witness you marrying someone else right before my eyes."

Isabella's eyes grew misty. She sniffed and looked away. "Alright, but you must promise me something."

"And what's that?"

"Take a picture of me."

Though the request seemed straightforward, Marcus's brow creased a bit.

He likely recalled their past conversations about "cheating."

In those days, she had jokingly warned him, "If you ever cheat once we're married, I'll take everything—the house, the car, everything—and leave you with nothing."

It had been nothing more than a joke at the time.

Yet Marcus had given her a serious look and said, "If that day ever arrives, display our photo at my wedding, expose me as a cheater, and destroy my reputation."

Neither of them had ever thought that such a day would actually come.

Seeing Marcus hesitate, Isabella felt her eyes grow warm. "Don't worry, it's just a regular photo."

It was just an ordinary... memorial photo.

She couldn't bring herself to be cruel. Even now—knowing he had betrayed her—standing here, facing him, she felt soft—unable to take any action.

When Marcus arrived to pick her up, Isabella saw that Laura was already waiting by the lake.

Before Isabella could say anything, Laura grinned and exclaimed, "Marcus told me you agreed to be my bridesmaid! I'm thrilled. But he's awful at taking pictures. How about I do it for you?"

Isabella hesitated. It wasn't important who snapped the photo, but she couldn't shake the memory of the picture from the bar last night.

She struggled to speak, "I... prefer Marcus to take it."

A fleeting desire for revenge sparked—just this once...

Marcus observed her quietly before saying to Laura, "I'll be quick."

Isabella moved to the edge of the lake, the chill wind biting at her.

She pressed her lips tightly, trying to make her smile appear more cheerful.

As Marcus snapped the photo, Laura abruptly grasped her chest and shouted, "Marcus, I don't feel good..."

Isabella noticed Marcus's face shift suddenly. He immediately dropped the camera, dashed to Laura, lifted her into his arms, and hurriedly made his way to the car.

"I'll get you to the hospital."

Isabella remained still, shocked, as Marcus placed Laura into the car.

Then, with a roar, the car started and disappeared from her sight in an instant.

After a lengthy pause, Isabella retrieved the camera and scrolled through the pictures.

One shot was blurry, with hardly any recognizable human figure.

It was her last photo.

Gazing at the image, Isabella felt a cold wind seep into her, chilling her throat painfully.

It was a while before she put the camera aside and called for a taxi to the euthanasia clinic.

Upon arrival, she approached the staff and said, "The contract specifies that the deceased can make a single final wish before passing."

The staff member nodded in agreement. "We'll do our best to make that happen."

Isabella smiled faintly, hiding the tears in her eyes.

She gently said to the director, "I wish for Marcus to be a pallbearer at my funeral."

Isabella left Marcus's phone number behind and exited the clinic.

No sooner had she walked onto the street than she got a message from Marcus with a church address.

"Wedding rehearsal. Bridesmaids must attend."

She hailed a taxi to the church.

Upon entering the dressing room, she noticed Marcus talking with Laura about different types of bouquets.

A wave of sadness washed over her.

In reality, the church, the white doves, and the floral decorations at the wedding were fairly standard.

However, each element had been carefully considered, and it was obvious that every aspect was crafted with attention to detail.

When Marcus cared deeply for someone, he was able to express his emotions wholeheartedly.

Isabella approached them from behind.

Laura spun around and exclaimed with excitement, "You're here? Great—help me see if my jewelry looks right... Oh no! I forgot to put on that bracelet."

She tapped her head in annoyance, opened the jewelry box, and retrieved a bracelet.

Isabella's eyes briefly landed on it, and she froze.

It was the couple's bracelet she had designed for herself and Marcus two years ago!

He had vowed to have it crafted and present it to her for their seventh anniversary.

Isabella's mind went blank. "Where... did you get this?"

"Oh, this bracelet? Marcus gave it to me," Laura said, as she gently leaned against Marcus's shoulder.

"One night last year, there was a power outage. Marcus stayed with me throughout the night, and we began dating soon after. He gifted me this bracelet on that very day."

"When was that?" Isabella asked with hesitation.

Laura paused to think. "February 17th."

Isabella felt a distinct snap resonate in her ears, marking the moment her heart broke entirely on February 17th—their seventh anniversary.

She stared at the bracelet as if it were a knife twisting in her chest, the pain excruciating and indescribable.

At that moment, someone called Laura from beyond the door, prompting her to leave the room.

Now, only Isabella and Marcus were left inside.

Breaking the silence, Isabella spoke gently, her voice tinged with confusion and disbelief. "On our anniversary, you mentioned an emergency call. But how could you have been with Laura that night?"

Marcus paused briefly before admitting, "I lied to you."

Isabella halted. "So when you mentioned the hospital department had a dinner on February 23rd last year, that was a lie too?"

"It was Laura's birthday that day," Marcus replied with complete composure.

Isabella nodded as if comprehending, but tears started to form in her eyes.

She asked in a raspy voice, "And on March 6th, when you claimed you had surgery..."

"I took Laura to an amusement park."

"March 15th..."

"She had a nightmare, so I stayed with her."

Marcus raised his eyes to meet hers directly. This time, before she could inquire, he went on, "On April 7th, when I claimed to be on a three-day business trip, I was actually in Hawaii with Laura.

"On April 13th, we watched the sunrise on Mount Whitney. On April 22nd, we visited Lake Tahoe. On May 3rd, we came back from a holiday in Japan. The following day, she expressed her desire to get married, so I ended things with you. Do you want to know more?"

He recounted each event in a straightforward manner.

Isabella's throat felt dry and constricted, as if it were filled with cotton. She tried to speak, but no words emerged.

This man stood before her with such composure, metaphorically stabbing her heart repeatedly.

In this instant, he had obliterated every memory of their shared past.

The anguish in Isabella's chest was nearly overwhelming. She bit down on her lip, yet a cry slipped out despite her effort.

"Why?"

Why was he treating her this way?

She hadn't done anything wrong—why was this happening to her?

Marcus observed her in silence. "Does the answer really matter?"

Isabella shook, her eyesight becoming hazy.

A year earlier, she would have seized Marcus by the collar, demanding an answer. "How can you be so self-righteous? Don't you feel any remorse?"

But now, she couldn't.

Because she was dying.

In just a few days, she would be gone.

Consequently, none of these answers mattered anymore.

The door swung open once more, and Laura entered, observing them with curiosity. "Rehearsal's beginning. What were you discussing?"

Isabella looked away, brushed away her tears, and left without saying anything.

During the rehearsal, she stood quietly in the corner, listening to the host explain the wedding proceedings.

"When the bride enters, the bridesmaids will pass her hand to the groom."

"Then, the couple will stand here to recite their vows. Groom, do you recall the vows?"

Isabella, lost in her thoughts, was brought back to the present. She looked up to see Marcus holding Laura's hand on stage, speaking with deep devotion.

"I vow to take this beautiful woman as my wife, to comfort, protect, cherish, and value her above all else. In sickness and in health, in wealth and in poverty, I will be unwaveringly devoted to her forever."

As he spoke, the tenderness in his eyes was like a vast ocean, inviting one to lose themselves in its profound affection and sweetness.

Isabella stood frozen, as though each breath was painful.

The wedding unfolding before her was one she had dreamed about innumerable times.

The man before her had disclosed a harsh truth to her just ten minutes earlier.

Yet, here she was, compelled to watch their joyous moment firsthand.

It was truly ironic.

Isabella inhaled deeply and began to walk away.

Just then, the host announced, "Now, let's welcome the bridesmaids to the stage to offer their congratulations to the newlyweds!"

The moment the words were spoken, all eyes turned to Isabella.

She remained frozen, trying hard to hold her ground but unable to take a step.

Suddenly, her phone rang loudly. "Sorry, I need to leave. It's urgent," Isabella exclaimed.

Clutching her phone, she hurried out of the room as though she were fleeing a bad dream.

Once outside, Isabella picked up the phone call. It was the medical clinic on the line.

"Ms. Gibson, there are two euthanasia options. We're calling to confirm. Do you prefer an injection or oral medication?"

Isabella shut her eyes and softly said, "Injection."

Swallowing pills was too bitter for her.

Despite enduring all kinds of suffering, bitterness was her greatest fear.

After ending the call, she started to walk away, only to discover Marcus quietly standing behind her.

"Let me take you home," he offered.

The drive to the hotel was marked by an uncomfortable silence.

Upon reaching the hotel, Isabella was about to step out of the car when Marcus caught her wrist.

"There's a fountain here. Let me take another picture for you."

She considered declining, but when she looked at Marcus, the words wouldn't come.

She made her way to the fountain.

As Marcus pulled out his phone to take the picture, he explained, "Laura specifically asked me to redo it. She felt bad about messing up your last photo session."

Isabella froze. "What are you trying to say?"

Marcus paused and gazed deeply at her. "She isn't aware of us. Please don't hold anything against her."

So, even giving her a ride back was for Laura's benefit.

He was worried she might retaliate.

Isabella felt a sharp pang in her chest. With her head lowered, she answered quietly, "I won't. Don't worry."

Marcus remained silent. After snapping the photo, he led her into the hotel.

As they waited for the elevator, he mentioned, "We stayed at this hotel the last time we visited Switzerland. Laura isn't in great health, and this hotel offers a specialized medical department..."

His voice was tinged with a touch of care.

Ding—the elevator doors slid open.

"It's here," Isabella interrupted, avoiding eye contact as she swiftly entered.

The door shut swiftly, and the red floor numbers began lighting up sequentially.

At that point, Isabella couldn't maintain her composure any longer.

Her legs buckled, and she felt warm liquid trickling onto her hand. She glanced down—it was blood, just as she thought.

Once back in her room, she opened a bottle of pills and emptied the last two onto her palm.

It took 30 minutes after taking them for her nosebleed to stop.

As she finished cleaning her face, a notification appeared on her phone from the cloud album.

"Tomorrow is your birthday. Check out what's happened over the last two years."

Isabella paused in disbelief before opening the album.

The first picture she saw was from her birthday celebration two years back.

In the soft glow of the birthday candles, her father, her mother, and Marcus were all present.

She stood among them, beaming radiantly as if she held the whole world in her hands.

Isabella gazed at the photo with empty eyes, tears slowly streaming down her cheeks.

At that moment, the doorbell rang.

She quickly wiped her tears and opened the door, revealing Marcus standing there.

The dim light from the corridor highlighted the edges of his eyes and brows, giving him the same cold, handsome look as in the photo.

Isabella's heart skipped a beat. Before she could say anything, she noticed Laura standing next to him out of the corner of her eye.

Snapping back to reality, she tightened her grip on the doorknob.

"Why are you two here?"

Laura held the small cake aloft and gently leaned on Marcus's shoulder as they entered the room.

"We just discovered your birthday is tomorrow, and yet we made you come to our wedding rehearsals. We feel really bad," she said. "So we brought this cake to celebrate a bit early."

Isabella glanced at the cream-covered cake in her hands, feeling a wave of nausea wash over her.

Since beginning chemotherapy, fatty foods had been the hardest for her to endure.

"Sorry, I..."

Before Isabella could decline, Marcus placed the cake firmly in her hands.

"Laura picked it out herself. Don't let it go to waste."

Isabella hesitated, but Marcus's determined look made her give in.

As she took a bite, the rich cream coated her tongue. She gripped the fork tightly and forced a smile.

"It's delicious. Thank you."

"Isn't it?" Laura chimed in cheerfully. "Marcus took me to every cake shop in the city to find this one. He may seem reserved, but he's really romantic. He wanted the best for the wedding cake. He even bought out all the baby's breath in town and designed the ring himself. I wonder who taught a med student all these things..."

Isabella absorbed each word, noticing the sweet cake she was eating becoming bitter.

Cake, baby's breath, design...

All these things she had taught Marcus. Who could have imagined she'd now see him sharing them with someone else?

She glanced at Marcus's unreadable face and tightened her grip.

She compelled herself to speak with a neutral tone, "Perhaps... a friend taught him."

Laura was on the verge of speaking further when Marcus gently grasped her hand.

"We've given the cake and our best wishes. It's time to leave. Make sure not to miss the wedding tomorrow."

"What time is the wedding?" Isabella inquired.

Marcus looked at her and replied, "10:00 a.m."

Isabella paused, her gaze dropping to a text from the euthanasia clinic received just ten minutes earlier.

"Your reserved euthanasia appointment is at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow."

Isabella pressed her lips tightly, unsure of her emotions at that moment.

Marcus looked puzzled and asked, "What's bothering you?"

She glanced up at him and managed a composed smile. "Nothing."

Marcus scrutinized her closely before leaning down to whisper to Laura. She nodded and walked away.

After Laura disappeared from view, Marcus approached Isabella and gave her a plane ticket. "Head back home after the wedding."

Isabella was shocked and stared in disbelief. "Are you afraid I'll mess things up for you?"

Marcus's expression grew more intense, not confirming or denying. "I want to avoid any unexpected issues with Laura."

Isabella felt a sharp pang in her chest.

She blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears that stung her eyes.

She couldn't disrupt anything, even if she wanted to—time was slipping away.

Isabella let out a deep sigh, fixed her gaze on Marcus, and slowly said, "Marcus..."

Marcus glanced down at her, his eyes intense and brooding.

Isabella felt her heart heavy, remaining speechless for a long moment.

Finally, with a tearful smile, she said, "Marcus, I hope you have a joyful wedding."

After Marcus departed, Isabella returned to the room and gazed at the half-eaten cake on the table.

The cream had long since melted, and chocolate pieces had scattered across the table.

She paused briefly, then approached the table and began eating the cake, bite after bite.

It was past midnight, and today was her birthday.

She thought, "Happy birthday, Isabella. You're facing death on your birthday."

Isabella looked at the vacant hotel room, finished the last piece of cake, and tears streamed down her face.

Her 27th year. Her brief 27 years.

The next morning, Isabella headed downstairs to check out of the hotel early.

Switzerland's compact nature was evident as soon as she stepped outside. Parked nearby were rows of wedding cars adorned with golden lettering that read "Wishing Marcus and Laura a Happy Wedding."

After taking a moment to gaze at the cars, Isabella turned and flagged down a taxi to take her to the medical clinic.

The medical team had already set up the room.

She opted for a room with a window, offering a clear view of the distant Alps.

Once she was in bed and the staff had finished their preparations, they handed her a controller.

"Press this switch, and you'll fall asleep in 30 seconds. You'll pass peacefully about four minutes later. If you change your mind, just press the switch back to stop the process."

They added, "We can also deliver any final messages or letters for you."

Isabella was taken aback. She thought about saying that no one would care about her last words.

But instead, she said, "When the person comes to carry my coffin, please tell them to bury me next to my parents."

She wished to return to her parents, reuniting as a family.

Isabella concluded her speech, glanced one final time at the far-off blue sky, and firmly pressed the switch.

A frigid liquid coursed through her veins. There was no pain—only a pervasive chill that spread through every part of her body.

In the haze, she imagined hearing the distant tolling of church bells.

Their harmonious chimes lingered in her ears, signifying the start of Marcus's wedding.

On her birthday. On the day of her death.

Tears streamed down Isabella's cheeks as she gently closed her eyes for the last time.

At the church, Laura was anxious. "We can't get in touch with Isabella. What should we do?"

She worried aloud, "The ceremony is about to begin. She wouldn't ditch being my bridesmaid, right?"

Marcus, frustrated by his unanswered calls, pursed his lips and said, "I'll go look for her."

"Never mind then!"

Laura interrupted him. "We can go ahead with the wedding even if we don't have a bridesmaid. Let's not postpone the ceremony."

Marcus hesitated briefly, feeling an inexplicable sense of unease.

Looking out the window with worry, he said, "I'll return shortly. It won't take long."

As he started to leave, Laura quickly caught his wrist.

"Marcus! What are you really planning? Remember your promise to me!"

Laura held onto his hand with desperation. "My parents and brother, they're gone because of you! Are you planning to leave me, too?"

Marcus stood frozen. His feet felt heavy, rooted to the ground.

He clenched his jaw, and after what seemed like an eternity, stepped back.

At that moment, the church bells rang loudly, startling a flock of birds in the forest.

Everyone was stunned.

Marcus heard 13 tolls. The ominous strokes of a death knell.

A sudden, nameless panic surged within him.

Then, the church speaker crackled to life.

"Today, a foreign visitor from afar has chosen to leave this world peacefully. Let us pray for her soul, that the Lord may grant her entry to heaven.

"Her name is... Isabella."