The Wedding of the Dreamy Beloved

When I woke, it was deep into the night. I logged into all my social media and finally found that familiar icon among Matt's followers on Twitter named "OneHeart."

I opened her profile and scrolled back to my last birthday, finding a telling post: "My hero has come to my rescue."

The picture was of a hand, one I'd held countless times.

That day, my 25th birthday, Matt and I had planned to ride the Ferris wheel—a tradition since he first kissed me there when we were both 18.

We had just reached the amusement park when Matt received that call. He said work was calling him away urgently and left, promising to return soon.

I waited until the park gates closed, but Matt never returned. Later, he called: "Ava, work's a mess. Go on home without me."

That was the moment 25-year-old Matt broke a promise made to 18-year-old Ava. Even then, I was no longer his priority.

The deeper I dove into Summer's Twitter, the more pathetic I felt. Although I couldn't see Matt, his traces were everywhere in her posts.

Everything I had, Summer had too—the mugs, the stuffed animals, even not being the sole recipient of kisses on the Ferris wheel.

And what I didn't have, Summer did—he shared street food with her, and wandered through night markets with her.

And to think, I had believed Matt loved only me.

Tears overwhelmed me, and exhausted, I fell back to sleep.

When I next awoke, it was already morning, and the System notified me, "Host life expectancy now 24 hours."

After breakfast, my parents, Jack, and I went to confront the Hayes family about yesterday's debacle—we needed some closure, to not let the issue slide.

Mr. and Mrs. Hayes welcomed us warmly, their house still decorated with the festive red wedding banners that now seemed to mock the situation.

Mrs. Hayes took my hand immediately, her guilt evident as she apologized, "Ava, our son messed up, but don't worry, you're the only daughter-in-law we acknowledge."

I calmly withdrew my hand, fully aware that the Hayes family valued me more for what I represented than for who I was.

Mom looked at me, concern etching her face, "Ava, what are you thinking? Do you really want to stay tied to that jerk, Matt?"

I wanted to—not for love but to survive.

The System had hinted that marrying Matt before my termination could give me a second chance at life.

So, I nodded, "Yes, I still want to marry Matt, but I need him to go with me to get the marriage license today."

Mrs. Hayes initially smiled at my decision, but her face fell when I mentioned getting the license today. "Ava, Matt hasn't come home yet. Maybe give him a moment to think? You two have over twenty years of history. Just give him some time, and he'll see sense."

Just then, the butler announced, "Young Master is home."

Mrs. Hayes's face lit up, "Ava, see? Matt's back. I'll get you two down to the courthouse right now."

A wave of relief washed over me—maybe I had a shot after all. But as Matt entered, so did Summer, right by his side.