Silence.
The kind that lingers like a storm cloud—thick, expectant, pressing down on everyone present.
Allen's voice still echoed in the vast dining room, the words ringing like a quiet rebellion:
"I'm calling off the engagement. Effective immediately."
Sophia's hand hovered over her teacup, her gentle features frozen in a moment of disbelief. William lowered his tablet slowly, brows knitting together—not with anger, but a deep, quiet concern. Emma sat composed, her expression unreadable, though her fingers had tightened ever so slightly around the handle of her cup.
Allen stood at the head of the table, back straight, shoulders relaxed, voice calm. There was no outburst. No drama. Just certainty.
Sophia was the first to speak.
"…Allen, dear," she said softly, "where is this coming from?"
Her voice wasn't sharp. It was warm, careful—like someone reaching out without knowing how close they can get before being pushed away.
"I thought this was what you wanted," she added.
Allen glanced at her, then at William. There was no hostility in their eyes—only confusion. And something else he hadn't expected.
Worry.
He sighed lightly. "I used to think I wanted it too. I kept telling myself that if I held on tightly enough, I could make it work. Make her love me. Make everything fall into place."
He turned toward Emma, his voice softer. "But love doesn't grow in a cage. And it shouldn't feel like proving your worth every day."
Emma didn't respond. She watched him carefully, lips pressed into a pale line. Something shimmered behind her eyes—anger, maybe. Or regret. But she said nothing.
William leaned forward, voice calm but firm. "Allen. If something's troubling you, tell us. You don't have to carry it alone."
Allen blinked at that. For a moment, the man in front of him wasn't the cold CEO he remembered. Just a father trying to understand his son.
His heart ached with something old and unfamiliar.
"I'm not trying to be difficult," Allen said, quieter now. "But this life… this path—it doesn't feel like mine anymore."
Sophia looked at Emma gently. "Emma, sweetheart, is there something we're not seeing? You two used to be inseparable."
Emma's voice cut in.
"You really don't remember what happened, do you?"
Allen blinked. "What?"
She stood slowly, her movements graceful and sharp. "Allen. You begged for this engagement to happen. You chased me. You defied your parents for years because you thought loving me was your purpose."
She stepped toward him, her cold mask cracking just slightly. "And now you stand here, acting like you were the victim?"
He looked at her—truly looked. And deep inside, something Allen had felt, but Alex never knew, stirred.
"Maybe I did chase you," he said quietly. "Maybe the old Allen thought love could fix the cracks in everything else."
He took a step closer. "But here's the truth, Emma—love doesn't work when only one person's trying. I'm done trying to be someone else's burden."
Her lips parted slightly—surprise flickered there. Maybe even something else.
But Allen turned away.
"I'm going to live this life on my terms," he said, walking toward the hall.
"Allen—"
He paused at the doorway.
"I'm not angry with you," he said, not looking back. "But I won't keep holding onto someone who's already let go."
The door closed behind him, the quiet echo of it lingering in the room.
The door clicked softly behind him. Allen stepped into the cool hush of his room, the luxury of the space feeling hollow now. His heartbeat was still racing, the conversation replaying in fragments.
That could've gone worse, he thought. Or maybe… better.
He sank into the armchair by the window and stared at the ceiling, exhaling.
Then—
Ding~!
A light, teasing voice echoed in his mind like the cheerful chime of a morning alarm.
"Wakey wakey~! Look who finally shook things up a little!"
Allen sat bolt upright. "…What the hell?"
"Language, big brother! Tsk tsk~"
"Welcome to your new reality! Powered by yours truly—Lily, your adorable Perfect Life System~!"
"…I'm hallucinating."
"Nope! Very real. You just unlocked me by doing something bold and emotionally mature. Ew, I know—growth. Gross, right?"
Her voice was bubbly and teasing, like a little sister trying to get under your skin and hug you at the same time.
"Anyway! I'm here to help you live the best version of this life. No stats, no grinding, no saving the world with a sword—just you, becoming you. Finally."
Allen rubbed his temples. "Why do you sound like a hyperactive mascot?"
"Because trauma is boring and healing is hard, so someone has to make it fun~!"
He blinked. Then slowly… he laughed.
A soft, quiet chuckle at first—then a deeper exhale, as if some unseen weight had cracked just a little.
"…Fine, Lily. You want to help? Don't make it weird."
"No promises~ 💖"