Nine Weddings, Nine Betrayals

Xavier Jensen's depressive beloved one, my younger sister, attempted suicide for the ninth time.

So he left me alone at our wedding.

Also for the ninth time.

Xavier said, She's not like you. She suffers from severe mental illness. She needs me, her psychiatrist.

Thus, the system judged my romance mission as failed.

I was punished accordingly.

When Xavier finally realized I didn't want to live anymore, he tried to use all his professional expertise to cure me, to keep me in this world.

But I'd given up on him long ago.

*****

My name was Regina Shaw. Today marked the ninth time I'd been left at my wedding by the same man.

In the mirror, I saw a bride in a wedding dressjust looked like a joke.

The makeup artist was touching up my makeup. Her fingers trembled slightly as she carefully avoided the tear stains long since dried on my face.

"Miss Shaw, you're the most beautiful bride I've ever seen." Her compliment was cautious, but her eyes kept darting toward the door.

I knew what she was expecting.

Everyone was.

My phone buzzeda video message popped up.

I didn't even need to click the video to know what it was about.

My "dear sister", Imogen Shaw, sobbed in distress with fresh red cuts lining her wrist, "Regina, I'm sorry, but I just can't go on like this."

There she went again with her act.

I forwarded it to Xavier, who owned a psychiatric clinic, and started the countdown.

Ten, nine, eight...

A man called out, "Regina."

The door burst open. Xavier looked dazzling in his perfectly tailored suit.

His face was twisted with that same anxious lookthe one he reserved only for Imogen.

Seven, six, five...

"Imogen is having another episode. I have to check on her," Xavier continued, urgency in his voice.

His tie was crooked, and he was panting like he'd just sprinted a marathon.

Four, three, two...

"Go." My voice was eerily calm.

Xavier froze, as if he'd expected me to stop him this time.

He hesitated for a second and reached for me. "We can reschedule the wedding."

"No.

"This is the ninth time, Xavier." I leaned back.

The guests' whispers slipped through the door crack.

"The groom is leaving?"

"The bride's sister is suffering, after all."

"A doctor's duty comes first."

[Warning: final mission attempt failed.]

The system's voice was icy and mechanical in my mind.

Xavier left, just as I knew he would.

I'd watched his back as he walked away so many times. It was like a rehearsed stage play.

"She's not like you.

"She has severe depression. She needs me, her psychiatrist," he stated over his shoulder.

The dressing room door closed behind me. Slowly, I removed my veil. The system's alert chimed again.

[Xavier's affection level: 0%. Host's affection level: 99%. Mission failed. Punishment initiated: Host will develop a condition worse than major depression. All will to live will be erased.]

I laughed until tears spilled.

The makeup artist backed away as if I were a lunatic to her.

Maybe I was.

After all, I got left at the wedding nine times by the same man.

I steadied my voice. "Cancel the wedding."

The staff stared at me, frozen. Then I dragged my wedding dress toward the rooftop.

The wind howled. I stood at the edge and gazed down from thirty floorsa fall from here would be fatal.

Strangely, I felt no fear at all.

[Suicide is the fastest way to return to your original world.

[However, it is advised to manage the side effects from the punishment first.] I heard a warning from the system.

I stepped back from the edgenot because I was afraid to die, but because my death would be exactly what some people wanted.

Like my psychiatrist fianc who always puts his patients first.

Like my sister who wielded her depression like a weapon.

Like my parents who always said, "Imogen is sick. You have to understand."

The train of my wedding dress dragged through the stairwell, stained with dust. It was like my love for Xavierunwanted anymore.

At home, I got a text from Xavier. [Imogen is stable. We'll talk about the wedding later.]

I didn't reply. Instead, I dropped my phone into a bathtub full of water.

I watched it sink, then I finally understood why Imogen would always use the suicide stunt.

When one was broken enough, laughter was the only thing left.

*****

The curtains hadn't been opened in two weeks.

I curled up in the corner of my bed and counted the cracks on the wall.

One, two, three... By seventeen, I lost track. No matter. I'd start over.

[Warning: Host's depression level is critical. Immediate intervention recommended.]

The system's voice echoed in my mind.

I blinked.

My eyelids weighed a ton.

The system continued, [Or you can choose to return to your original world.

[Current suicide success rate: 92%.]

On the nightstand lay a bottle of sleeping pills, a box cutter, and a rope.

It had taken me three days just to gather theseevery time I tried to stand, dizzy spells would force me back into bed.

The doorbell rang.

I was counting the thirty-seventh crack before I realized someone was ringing my doorbell.

"Regina, I know you're home," a woman shouted.

That was my motherher voice as shrill as nails scraping a chalkboard.

I dragged myself to the door.

Mother stood at the door and clutched a thermal lunchbox, her makeup flawless. The moment she saw me, she wrinkled her nose as if she'd caught a whiff of something foul.

She couldn't believe what she saw. "Is this how you are living?"

She pushed her way in. Her high heels clicked sharply against the floor. "Even Imogen keeps her room tidy when she's sickunlike you."

I leaned against the wall and waited for her to finish.

I'd heard these same lines for twenty-eight years. I could recite them in my sleep.

"Imogen's been hospitalized again.

"All because you canceled the wedding. Xavier says her condition is worse, so she needs" My mother slammed the lunchbox onto the table.

"How much?" I cut straight to the point.

My voice came out hoarse, barely recognizable.

Mother's expression froze for a moment before she squared her shoulders. "The medical expenses are covered by Xavier. But the doctor recommended Swila for her recovery."

I walked over to my desk and took out my checkbook. My fingers wouldn't cooperateit took three attempts to sign my name.

"Enough?"

I handed her the check.

Her eyes gleamed at the amount. Then she nudged the lunchbox toward me. "It'll do. Oh, right. Soup for you. Imogen insisted I bring it. See how much she cares about you? Unlike you."

I opened the lid.

The greasy stench of the chicken soup hit me. I whirled around and bolted for the bathroom before retching.

Mother yelled through the door, "Stop faking it.

"Imogen has my soup just fine, and she's the one with severe depression. Since when are you so delicate?"

I knelt by the toilet and pressed my forehead against the icy wall.

The system sent an alert. [Host's vitals unstable. Activate emergency protocol?]

I denied inwardly.

Back in the living room, Mother was rummaging through my medicine cabinet.

She held up the medicine bottle accusingly. "You haven't taken any of these antidepressants?

"Imogen never misses a dose. No wonder Xavier says she's more cooperative with the treatment than you."

"Xavier talks to you about me?" I asked in my low voice.

Mother stilled momentarily, then smirked. "He's practically family now. Imogen needs him, and he... Well, since the wedding is off, I'll just come out with it."

She leaned in. Her perfume made me dizzy. "Xavier and Imogen are perfect for each other. He's a psychiatrist. Men like him prefer fragile women, not someone as cold as you."

I nodded. "Good for them."

Mother was struck dumb. She probably expected tears or screaming from me.

But I just sat there and looked at my fingers.

My fingernails were lined with tiny cracksmarks from my subconscious gnawing at them when I was asleep.

"That's it?" Mother pressed.

"I wish them happiness." My voice was calm.

Another caution came from the system. [Warning: Host's unusual response has alerted the target.]

Too late. I didn't care anymore.

After Mother left, I went back to bed.

The darkness pressed down like a weighted blanketoddly comforting. I could just lie here until my body rotted away, or wait for the system to declare the mission a complete failure.

Time blurred before the doorbell rang again.

I ignored it. But the sound of the doorbell turned into pounding on the door.

"Regina, open up! I know you're in there!" It was Xavier's voice.

I slowly pushed myself up from bed. My legs nearly buckled when I stood.

The hallway light stabbed my eyes as I opened the door.

Xavier stood at the door. Beneath his white coat were dress pants. I glanced at his polished shoes. He must have come straight from his clinic.

He looked wrecked.

Bloodshot eyes, crooked tie, with a medical file in his hand.

For once, Xavier looked so out of sorts, unlike his usual professional self.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

My whisper barely carried.

Xavier's eyes dilated. He took a sudden step forward and gripped my wrist. "Good God, you're skin and bones."

I let him grab my wristlimp as a rag doll.

The antiseptic smell on him reminded me of white, soulless hospitals.

Like some private one where Imogen lay. Her wrists must have been wrapped in white bandages, and Xavier ought to hold her hand.

"Regina?"

Xavier waved his hand before my eyes. "Are you listening?"

I blinked. "What?"

"Your mother said you're not well.

"I need to make a brief evaluation of your condition." Xavier's tone was gentlethe kind he used on his psychiatric patients.

"No need.

"Go back to Imogen. She needs you more than I do." I turned away and walked back inside.

Xavier followed me in and flipped the light switch.

I flinched over the sudden glare, so I raised my hands to shield my eyes.

"Dear God..."

Xavier took a sharp inhale.

Only then did I see myself clearly. The mirror showed a woman I'd never seencrumpled pajamas, greasy and tangled hair, skeletal limbs with veins like spider webs, empty eyes. A complete living corpse.

"When did this start?"

Xavier used a tense voice now. He flipped open the medical file and scribbled notes.

"What?"

"This!

"Sorry. The suicidal intention, when did it start?" His voice cracked before he reined it in.

I tilted my head. "After the eighth canceled wedding? Or maybe the seventh."

Xavier's pen stilled.

He stared at me with a strange expression, as if he finally got to know me.

"You need a full assessment.

"This is worse than I thought," Xavier admitted finally.

"Worse than Imogen?" I let out a bitter laugh.

Xavier went rigid as if struck.

Just then, the doorbell rang again.

Xavier went to answer the door, and I heard Imogen's sickly-sweet voice. "Dr. Jensen, I came to check on Regina. I knew you would be here."

My younger sister floated in like a butterfly. She wore a white dress with delicate lace bandages wrapped around her wrist. When she saw me, she covered her mouth dramatically. "Regina, what happened to you?"

I saw Imogen steal a look at Xavier and then lean closer to him on purpose.

Imogen pulled several bottles of pills from her designer bag. "I brought some medicine.

"Special prescriptions from Dr. Jensenthey work wonders."

She placed the medicine bottles on the table, right on top of the suicide note I'd prepared.

I'd forgotten to put it away. But Imogen didn't seem to notice itshe was putting on a show about her recovery for Xavier.

Imogen cooed, "I'm doing much better now, all thanks to Dr. Jensen. Last night I even made dinner by myselfwell, it was just a simple salad, but..."

I watched her act and suddenly found it amusing.

This was how she'd always overshadowed me.

With these staged progresses, Imogen just made me look immature and inconsiderate.

Imogen leaned in close, her whisper barely audible. "Regina, you should take your meds on time.

"Enough with your suicide act to get Dr. Jensen's attention. I've played that card."

I nodded calmly. "I will, and I wish you happiness."

Imogen froze, clearly caught off guard by my response. She shot Xavier a look for help, but his gaze was fixed on the items atop my nightstand.

The sleeping pills, box cutter, and rope were arranged like some morbid art installation.

Xavier cut in, "Imogen.

"Go home. I need to speak with your sister alone."

Imogen was reluctant. "But"

"Now."

Xavier's tone brooked no argument.

Imogen pouted and shot me a venomous glare before leaving. I waved at her, like a wind-up doll.

As soon as the door closed, Xavier snatched up the medicine bottles and examined them. "These aren't what I prescribed for her. Where did she get them?"

I shrugged.

It didn't matter to me.

Xavier dropped to his knees before me and gripped my shoulders. "Regina, listen to me. You need treatment. Real treatment."

There was something I'd never seen in his eyesfear.

How strange. Did a psychiatrist also get afraid?

"Why?" I asked. "Doesn't Imogen need you more?"

Xavier's grip tightened. "Imogen... Your condition is different."

"How?"

I tilted her head at Xavier. "Because she cries for help, while I just give my life up without telling anyone?"

Xavier went sheet-white.

He yanked me into a bone-crushing embrace. It was so tight I could barely breathe.

"I won't let you die," Xavier whispered into my ear with his voice shaking. "I'll never leave you alone again."

I rested against his shoulder and smelled the familiar scent of his cologne.

How ironicthis was the embrace I'd longed for all along, yet now my heart didn't skip a beat for it.

A message popped up from the system. [Target's affection level showed abnormal fluctuations. Analyzing cause...]

I closed my eyes.

Too late, Xavier.

I didn't even have the strength to hate him anymore.