April 7, Rainy
He doesn’t love me, he doesn’t...
No matter how deeply I love him, he still does not love me...
These words are soaked in profound despair and sorrow, each letter deeply embedded in the paper, revealing the intensity with which they were written. The woman who wrote them must have felt utterly hopeless.
Liam is worried. He looks at his friend, who is tightly clutching the pages, motionless. He has never wished more that his friend hadn't fallen for that unfortunate woman.
The grass is littered with pages that chronicle Avery’s intense love for a man. Her emotions about this man’s joys and sorrows come alive in these pages before their eyes.
Evan kneels on the grass, quietly picking up the diary pages Avery had scattered. His face is expressionless, cold, betraying no emotion, but he handles each page with care, as if it were a precious treasure.
Watching his friend like this, Liam suddenly feels a bad premonition.
“Evan, don’t be too heartbroken,” Liam says.
Evan pauses from brushing dust off a page and looks at his longtime friend. “Heartbroken?” He slowly stands up, his face stern, his eyes sharper. “Heartbroken? Me, heartbroken over such a woman? Liam, you must be joking.”
“Let's go to the bar to celebrate. I’m in a great mood today.”
Liam watches his friend desperately guzzling drinks across the table, his brow furrowed. He presses down on Evan’s hand, which is reaching for another drink.
“Let go,” Evan’s glare is filled with discontent, his voice rough from too much drinking.
“Enough, you’ve had more than enough. Are you trying to drink yourself to death?” Liam doesn’t loosen his grip but instead tightens it, looking earnestly at Evan. “Tell me the truth, Evan. Have you fallen for Avery?”
Evan’s eyes turn piercingly cold. He smashes the glass he’s holding to the ground and says through gritted teeth, “How could I possibly fall for that woman? She means nothing to me.”
That woman is so vile; she repeatedly tried to harm Megan. He could only hate her. He could never love her. It was impossible!
A drunken Evan is taken to Megan’s place by her when she arrives.
She lays Evan down on her bed.
Sitting by the bed, she looks at the man lying there, her fingers caressing his handsome features before slipping to unbutton his shirt, revealing his strong chest. A look of obsession flickers in Megan’s eyes.
Megan stands up, her clothes dropping to her feet, and she covers Evan’s body with hers. Just as her lips are about to touch Evan’s, he suddenly opens his eyes. His sharp gaze startles Megan, freezing her in place.
Megan hadn’t expected Evan to wake up at that moment.
Evan pushes Megan aside, gets up, and covers her with a blanket, his voice cold, “I’m heading back.”
Megan, lying on the edge of the bed, feels humiliated—he still doesn’t want her. But she puts on a frail face, feigning concern for Evan, “You’ve been drinking; it’s not safe to drive.”
Evan presses his throbbing head and doesn’t look at Megan on the bed. “I have a driver.”
As Evan reaches the door, about to leave, Megan bites her lip and says, “Why are you leaving? We love each other, don’t we?”
The door slams shut.
The pitiful face she had just moments before now shows spite. All because of that wretch, Avery.
