Loving you brings regret

At a friend's gathering, someone asked Philip when he planned to marry me.

Philip took a calm drag from his cigarette, his eyes unreadable.

“Elizabeth is a good girl,” he said, “but she’s… tainted now. So my wife could never be her.” He paused, then added softly, “If only she were untouched, like Lauren.”

The video cut out. A text flashed on the screen.

【It’s me he loves. Don’t you get it yet?】

I stared at the taunting message but didn’t reply. Instead, I called out to the System.

“System, I choose to give up the mission. Yes—even if the price is death.”

That night, Philip came to find me, reeking of alcohol.

As soon as he saw me, he pulled me into a tight embrace. “Elizabeth, I missed you so much.”

He rested his head against my neck, no different from the Philip I knew. He kissed my cheek, then my lips, then my neck.

But as he moved lower, he hesitated—remembering something—and held himself back. Even now, with alcohol fueling a desire stronger than usual, he didn’t take the next step.

I used to think he was being considerate, unwilling to go too far before marriage. Now I understood. He just thought I was dirty.

Pushing down the grief, I shoved him away. My voice turned to ice.

“Philip, we’re breaking up.”

His eyes sharpened, suddenly sober. “Elizabeth, what are you saying?”

Seeing his nervous expression—if I hadn’t seen that video—how could I have believed that Philip, who always seemed to care for me, would say such things? I always thought he would be the one to protect me. I never imagined he’d be the one to hurt me the deepest.

“I said, we’re over.”

He reached out and pulled me tightly against him again, his voice a low murmur. “No, we’re not.”

I hated him like this. Clearly having no future in mind with me, yet still refusing to let go.

“Then have me now. Marry me.”

He froze, caught off guard, then chuckled softly. “Don’t be silly.”

But my eyes welled up. “Admit it, Philip! You just think I’m dirty!”

The thought I’d suppressed for so long finally burst out. After I said it, Philip stood rooted to the spot, staring at me intently.

My words had struck true. A flicker of disgust crossed his face.

“Fine. Yes, I think you’re dirty. Why did that bastard choose you and not someone else? Why did you have to let him—”

His gaze cut like a blade, plunging deep into my heart.

Hearing that, the tears I’d held back for so long finally fell.

That day was my eighteenth birthday. I’d dressed up carefully, hoping to surprise Philip.

Passing through an alley, a pair of foul, sticky hands clamped over my mouth. “All dressed up like that… you were looking for trouble, weren’t you?”

I struggled desperately, but the man behind me only grew more excited.

Philip was the first to find me. Trembling, he held me, swearing through gritted teeth that he’d find the man and make him pay.

But now? He knew I was the victim, yet he called me dirty.

I was the one who truly wished it had never happened. Maybe I should have understood the System’s mocking tone from the start.

I screamed at him, my voice raw. “Get out!”

His patience had long vanished. Seeing my state, he threw down one last line. “Elizabeth, you’d better not regret this. Once you leave me, no one will ever look after you again.”

After he left, I could no longer hold myself up. I crumpled to the floor.

It felt like something was being ripped from inside me—a pain that made me tremble. I had lost the bet with the System. Completely.

Then, a sharp, twisting pain shot through my abdomen. I coughed lightly and looked down at my open hand. A vivid number **15** appeared on my palm, then slowly faded away.