Chapter 2

Today marks three months since Scott died, and I've started sorting through his things.

Not because I've moved on.

Because his coat is still hanging in the closet, his slippers are still by the door, and there's still a row of noodles he wrapped himself sitting in the freezer.

Time never rushes me. It just reminds me, every single day, that there are things I need to deal with.

I took his shirts down one by one, meaning to sort them by size and donate them, only to realize I didn't even know what size he wore.

I turned back the collar label.

Six-one, large.

Three years of marriage. I knew he didn't eat organ meat, knew he checked the locks twice before bed, and I didn't know his shirt size.

And every piece of clothing he ever bought for me, he always got the size right.

That afternoon, Scott's assistant delivered his personal computer.

“Mr. Farley left instructions. His private files are for you to handle.”

I took the computer, meaning to ask when he'd left those instructions, but the words died on my tongue.

Scott always planned for the worst outcome first.

He'd even set up a procedure for his own death ahead of time.

The computer needed a password.

I tried his birthday, my birthday, our wedding date. None of them worked.

Before my last attempt, a hint popped up on the screen.

“The first time she asked if I'd eaten.”

I sat there stunned for a long while, then dug out my old phone.

My chat history with Scott was sparse. Mostly transfers, addresses, or won't be home for dinner tonight.

I searched eaten.

A record from seven years ago jumped up.

It was before our third meeting, and I'd asked out of politeness.

“Have you eaten?”

“Not yet.”

I didn't see it until two hours later, and then I never replied.

I typed in the date from that day.

The computer unlocked.

The desktop was almost entirely work files. Only the D drive held a folder named “Don't Delete.”

No photos inside. No inventory of assets. No farewell letter, the kind I'd assumed he would leave.

Just one program.

《Perfect Life》.

The creation date was three years ago, the day we got our marriage license.

I double-clicked to open it.

A loading animation crawled slowly to its end, and four words surfaced in the middle.

Perfect Life.

The next second, a familiar face appeared on the screen.

Long hair, a pale blue dress, a very faint mole beneath the right eye.

That was me.

A line of text sat in the top-left corner.

【Pursuit Target: Miriam Jenner.】

【Current Progress: 20%.】

The game interface was simple.

Vertical screen, a dialogue box, a character portrait on each side.

The heroine was me.

The hero was Scott.

His portrait wore the black suit from our wedding day, his expression softened past how he really looked.

Two buttons in the bottom-right corner. One a grayed-out Start Over, the other View Log.

I opened the log, and the first entry jumped out.

【Day 1: She wore the blue dress I bought today. Beautiful! But I didn't dare say so. Afraid she'd think I was being forward. Progress +0.5%.】

I looked down at the loungewear I had on.

That blue dress was still shoved to the very back of the closet.

The second morning after we married, Scott saw me come out of the room wearing it, and all he said was:

“It's colder out today. Put on a thicker coat.”

I thought he didn't like how it looked, and I never wore it again after that.

That day, when I went back to change out of the dress, I slammed the closet door on purpose, loud.

Scott stayed in the living room. He didn't come in.

At the time I took it for indifference. Only now do I understand that he probably hadn't dared to claim even the right to apologize.