I froze for a moment.
From beginning to end, this man’s expression remained faint—so faint it was almost cold.
As if who lived or died in this world meant nothing more to him than a passing footnote.
And yet, coming from someone so detached, he didn’t offer the usual hollow platitudes about choosing to live. Instead, he said something like this—words tinged with the perspective of a bystander.
Something stirred faintly in my chest.
Who would truly want to die, if they could go on living?
If this play called life could still be performed, who would willingly smash the stage with their own hands?
I lowered my gaze, my voice so soft it was almost carried away by the night wind.
“My play… was ruined a long time ago.”
“There’s nothing worth watching.”
Rhett, however, sounded as if he’
