He exhaled slowly, as if letting go of sothing heavy that had burdened him for years.
Then, as if nothing unusual had happened, he asked,
"What do you want for breakfast? I’ll make it."
Aurora stared at him for a mont, puzzled by the sudden dostic energy.
"I want avocado toast," she replied imdiately.
"The one you ordered last ti. And that strange waffle with the side sauce that made it taste so good."
Theodore chuckled faintly. "Okay."
He walked toward the kitchen.
Aurora watched him go, still confused.
’What exactly happened to him this morning?’
She almost called him back to ask, but then waved the thought away.
’Whatever it is... he looks lighter.’
.......
Far away, Eleanor sat inside her own house, waiting.
And waiting.
She kept asking the system again and again.
"Has Theodore seen the visions by now?"
The system replied calmly,
[All real plot have already been transmitted. He should have experienced them.]
A slow smile ford on Eleanor’s lips.
"He’ll co," she murmured. "He’ll definitely co to ."
But the day passed. No one ca. The next day passed. Still nothing.
By the third day, frustration began to gnaw at her composure.
Just then, she noticed a discussion trending in Theodore’s fan club online.
Soone had posted a ssage saying that Theodore had sent out a very cryptic gift.
"Is he hinting at so kind of secret love that he has?" the fan wondered.
Eleanor’s heart skipped.
She imdiately opened the post.
The image loaded.
And the mont she saw it, her heartbeat turned erratic.
The ssage read:
"For my beloved woman."
Alongside it were four bouquets.
Her hands trembled.
She recognized them instantly.
In the original storyline, Theodore had once given her four different bouquets.
One was a Polaroid bouquet.
One was a silk rose bouquet.
One was a chocolate bouquet.
And the last was a real flower bouquet.
Back then, he had explained each one to her.
"With the Polaroid bouquet," he had said, "I want to create more mories with you."
"With the silk roses, I want you to know my love will never wither."
"With the chocolate bouquet, I want to bring sweetness into your life."
"And with these real roses... I want you to know my feelings are sincere."
Eleanor stared at the image, her breath uneven.
Because she suddenly realized... That gift had not been sent to her.
Eleanor stared at the photograph so intently that her vision began to blur.
She waited for those bouquets to arrive, her fingers gripping the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white.
A day passed. Nothing happened.
Finally, her rage burst free. She shot to her feet, the chair screeching harshly against the marble floor.
"What kind of broken system are you?" Her voice echoed off the walls, sharp and hysterical.
"You promised results, yet I am standing here like a fool."
Then the chanical voice resounded in her mind, calm and detached.
[Theodore did not send those bouquet to you. The system does not know the reason. According to the established plot, they should have been redirected to you.]
Eleanor let out a bitter laugh that tasted tallic in her mouth.
From the mont she had bound herself to this thing, she had beco nothing but a unfortunate person.
It had promised her that as long as she suffered, she would gain imnse wealth and influence. It had sworn that she would obtain anything she desired.
And yet here she was.
Struggling to even gain the attention of the boy she loved.
She pressed her palms against her temples. ’This is ridiculous. This is not how it was supposed to go.’
"I am tired," she muttered hoarsely, her voice trembling.
"I am very tired of this entire thing. He does not even look at properly anymore. Tell honestly, can you even control anything? Or was there never a novel to begin with?"
A sharp chi pierced her ears.
[Warning. The host is attempting to challenge the authority of the system.]
Eleanor chuckled, though there was no humor in it. "Authority?" Her laughter turned brittle.
"For to challenge your authority, you should at least have so. You cannot even control the plot brewing right under your nose. You are nothing but a broken system."
Silence answered her once more.
Then suddenly, a violent current surged through her body. It was as if thousands of needles stabbed into her nerves at once. Her muscles locked.
The sll of sothing burnt filled her nostrils, and she realized with horror that it was the faint scent of her own skin singeing under invisible punishnt.
Her eyes widened. She could not even scream.
[The host is overreaching,] the system stated calmly, almost kindly. [There are elents beyond control. For the recent mishaps, compensation will be issued.]
By the ti the voice finished speaking, Eleanor had already collapsed onto the cold floor.
The marble pressed cruelly against her cheek, stealing away what little warmth she had left.
She forced out a resentful whisper. "What use is compensation? Do you even understand the situation I am living in?"
Her nails scraped weakly against the ground.
"I have no talent. I have no money. I was expelled from the university even after my na was re-enrolled. Everyone hates . No one wants to be my friend."
Tears slipped down the sides of her face, soaking into her hair.
"The so-called male lead is nothing but a bastard who cannot even control his own mind. He lingers around Olivia and still dares to claim that he loves . And Theodore..."
Her voice cracked at the na. "Theodore was supposed to belong to , yet now he acts as if I am a stranger."
Her chest heaved violently.
"I do not want to be Eleanor anymore," she cried out, her voice raw and broken. "I do not want to be the female lead. I quit. I do not want this role."
A faint hum vibrated through her skull.
[Binding cannot be undone,] the system responded in an emotionless tone. [The contract will terminate only upon the host achieving a suitable happy ending.]
Eleanor sobbed harder at that mont because she finally understood sothing chilling. This was not a miraculous opportunity. It was horror disguised as fortune.
It would not release her.
It would drag her through every plotline, every humiliation, every heartbreak, and she would be the one who bled for it.
A wave of helplessness washed over her so fiercely that her breathing stuttered. The ceiling above her spun. The edges of her vision darkened.
’Why?’
Even as consciousness slipped away, her mind scread.
’Why did I end up as Eleanor? If I had been given a choice, I would never have chosen this. Eleanor is too pitiful.’
In the original novel, from one perspective, Eleanor gained almost nothing.
She had been bullied since childhood. Even after befriending Olivia, she never dimd her own shine. She had endured quietly, stubbornly protecting her fragile pride.
At the very end, she was ant to marry the love of her life.
But before that chance could truly bloom, she had been imprisoned by Theodore.
She failed to see how desperately Theodore had tried to protect her. She rejected his help and turned back to Mateo, becoming a substitute in his life.
Mateo had mistreated her again and again, trampling over her dignity while she clung to the illusion that she could change him.
Theodore had warned her countless tis.
"Matteo is not right for you."
But the real Eleanor never listened. She believed love could reform cruelty.
When Olivia arrived, Matteo’s mistreatnt only intensified. Eleanor developed an illness from years of emotional tornt.
Only then did Mateo realize his mistakes and attempt to change. By that point, it felt less like love and more like guilt clawing at his conscience.
Was that truly happiness?
Did Eleanor genuinely love Matteo enough to return to soone who would continue to trample her pride?
’What a ss,’ she thought faintly. ’If only I had transmigrated as Olivia instead.’
As her eyes finally closed, another warning rang out.
[If the host’s emotional fluctuation exceeds the physical threshold, the body will not withstand the strain.]
Far away from this suffocating chaos, Theodore felt sothing entirely different.
Relief.
After the strange dream he had experienced, he realized what truly mattered in his life.
Perhaps fa had once dazzled him. Perhaps money had tempted him. But in his previous life, what he lacked most was family.
Now he had one. He would not waste it.
He took out his phone and contacted each family mber, asking softly,
"When are you free? I would like us to spend so ti together."
Most of them were busy. Only Aurora, Olivia, and Adriana were available.
At that thought, he smiled faintly. ’Then I will start with my sisters.’
A mory surfaced in his mind, the bouquet he had once given Eleanor in another lifeti. He stared at the screen for a long mont before making new choices.
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