Engaged Novel 5

Chapter 5 

The night the engagement teaser dropped, “Andrew & Rebecca’s Engagement” dominated the charts for two straight 

hours. 

The studio group chat flooded with notifications as assistant leila excitedly shared seven or eight links, stammering: 

“Emerie! The whole internet’s praising your cinematography!” 

Leaning against the sofa corner, Emerie offered a faint smile. 

She didn’t click any links. 

She simply waited, knowing that moment would inevitably arrive. 

At 7:30 PM, the doorbell rang. 

Rebecca stood there holding a strawberry cream cake, beaming. 

“Happy birthday, Emerie.” She lifted the box. “A day early, but I figured you’d be free tonight.” 

Emerie smiled thinly. “How’d you find my place?” 

“Andrew mentioned you’ve been unwell. Thought I’d check on you.‘ 

Silent, Emerie stepped aside. Rebecca strode in, scanned the room, then settled on the living room sofa. 

“Living alone–so peaceful.” 

“I’m used to it.” 

“You really haven’t changed.” Rebecca opened the box. “Still your favorite flavor, right? You said so once.” 

Emerie’s gaze flickered. 

She had said that–but only to Andrew. 

Now her health was ruined; she couldn’t stomach such cloying sweets anymore. 

“You know quite a lot.” 

Rebecca chuckled, suddenly pushing the cake forward. “Come on, have a bite. I’ll film it for him. He said you’ve been down lately–asked me to bring your favorite treats.” 

“He sent you?” 

“Yeah. Claims you avoid him now.” She tilted her head. “Still hung up on him?” 

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Chapter 5 

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Emerie stared blankly at the cake. The thick cream scent churned her stomach. 

“Eat,” Rebecca propped up her phone, grinning. “Consider it your farewell ritual.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Birthdays mark life’s chapters closing. Don’t you agree?” 

Emerie’s face paled instantly. Yet she lifted a forkful to her mouth. 

The sickly sweetness spread as she chewed slowly–each swallow like gulping plaster. 

“Smile.” Rebecca aimed the camera. “Finish it smiling, okay?” 

Emerie forced her lips upward, nostrils stinging with rising tears. 

Finally swallowing the last bite, she wiped her mouth. 

“Thanks,” she murmured. “Really.” 

Rebecca stood. “I’ll leave you be. See you tomorrow.” 

The door clicked shut. Emerie staggered to the bathroom, clutching her stomach, retching violently until weakness overcame her. 

Water gushed from the faucet as she splashed her face repeatedly. 

The mirror reflected ghostly skin, cream smeared at her mouth’s corner. 

Those reflected eyes–unfamiliar and hollow. 

Bracing against the sink, she lifted her gaze slowly. 

“Let it end here.” 

She whispered to her reflection. 

That night, she packed every relic–photos, scripts, storyboards, trophies, memos, even an old self–addressed note: 

Lingchuan time, 7:55 p.m. 

Emerie washed her hair and changed into her favorite white gown–the one she wore when she first won an award. 

She glanced at the clock; the hands were nearing eight. 

On the table sat a final glass of warm water. Two dark brown sleeping capsules lay opened, neatly placed on a white porcelain tray. 

Without hesitation, as if rehearsed countless times, she swallowed the pills with the entire glass of water. 

Swift, silent, restrained. 

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Chapter 5 

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She stood up, gently drew the curtains. The night view ofleilagchuan was beautiful, streetlights flickering on one by one, just like the day she first met Andrew. 

She stood by the window for over ten seconds, then slowly returned to her chair and pressed the camera’s record but- ton one last time. 

Before the lens, her eyes clear, a soft smile touching her lips, she whispered: 

“Today is my birthday.” 

“I want to tell myself: Emerie, you’ve been through so much.” 

“You did great. Really.” 

After speaking, she stopped the recording, closed her eyes slowly, and leaned back in the chair, taking deep breaths until the medication began to spread, her consciousness blurring. 

No tears fell. No sigh of regret escaped her. 

Sometime later, a nurse passing by for rounds noticed the door slightly ajar. She knocked softly–no response. 

Pushing the door open gently, she found Emerie sitting upright in the chair, composed and serene, as if resting. 

“Emerie?” the nurse called tentatively. 

Silence. 

Approaching, she noticed the pallor of her skin, her arm hanging loosely by the chair. 

On the table lay a completed document titled: 

Voluntary Peaceful Termination Confirmation Form. 

The signature was neat. The execution time noted in the bottom right corner: 

July 11th, 8:00 p.m. sharp. 

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