Chapter 3: The Heroine Arrives, The Truth Unravels

Three years later, the story’s destined heroine, Savannah, appeared. She would heal him with kindness and patience, save him from the past, and start the sweet, hopeful next chapter. That last necklace never needed to be found. I was destined to be forgotten. The truth hit hard.

Savannah was like a burst of sunlight after a long winter. She had a way of making Mason laugh again, of coaxing him out of his shell. I watched them together—her gentle touch, his hesitant smiles—and realized she was everything he needed. My job was done. It was time for me to fade into the background, to let him find happiness again. I floated behind her, watching, feeling both relief and sorrow.

I drifted behind Savannah. The heroine had a pretty, innocent face. I overheard her complaining to the air:

"System, are you sure Mason likes me? He’s so cold every day—it’s like I’m his enemy or something."

She spoke into the quiet, her voice tinged with frustration. There was a pause, the air thick with anticipation. It was almost comical, the way she pouted at the ceiling, like she was expecting someone to answer back. I hovered nearby, curiosity prickling at the edges of my thoughts.

A mechanical, icy voice replied—the game-like 'system' Savannah mentioned:

"Host, your role is to be the sunshine. As long as you keep reaching out, you’ll melt the male lead’s heart. Remember to bring him coffee tomorrow."

The voice was cold, almost robotic. It sent a shiver through me, so different from the warmth Savannah tried to project. I wondered what kind of world she lived in, where voices whispered instructions from the ether. It unsettled me.

Savannah pouted. "Fine. If it weren’t for that million-dollar reward, I wouldn’t bother with this dumb mission—always trying so hard and getting nowhere."

She flopped onto her bed, arms crossed, frustration etched across her face. The promise of money glinted in her eyes, but there was something else there, too—ambition, maybe, or just plain stubbornness. It made me uneasy, watching her plot and plan with such single-minded focus. I felt a chill.

"Still, Mason’s handsome and rich. I do kind of like him. Marrying him and spending the rest of my life together wouldn’t be bad, and I’d get half his fortune. Compared to that, a million is nothing."

Her words were flippant, but there was a greedy glint in her eyes. I felt a cold knot form in my stomach. Was this what Mason meant to her—a prize to be won, a bank account to be shared? I wondered if she ever saw the real man beneath the surface, the one who carried so much pain. My jaw clenched.

I stood frozen. System? Reward? Mission? What did that mean? My thoughts raced, my mind spinning. Was this all just a game to her? I couldn’t make sense of it. Everything felt wrong.

The next morning, Savannah really did bring coffee and donuts to the office. She smiled shyly, radiating that pure, girl-next-door charm. Mason, who usually avoided strangers, actually took the breakfast from her. Not only that, he promoted Savannah—the intern—to a full-time employee on the spot.

She breezed into the office, balancing a tray of coffee and a pink box of donuts. The staff watched, eyebrows raised, as Mason—usually so reserved—accepted the breakfast with a nod. The whole office buzzed with whispers, speculation swirling like autumn leaves. I hovered in the corner, watching it all unfold, feeling more invisible than ever. The air was electric.

It was completely different from how he’d treated me. Back then, we were deeply in love, and Mason was childhood friends with my boss. But he still insisted I follow company rules. He said he believed in my abilities and didn’t want people to gossip about me getting special treatment.

I remembered the long hours, the late nights spent proving myself. Mason never once bent the rules for me, even when I begged. He said he wanted me to shine on my own, to be proud of what I accomplished. It was hard then, but now, looking back, I understood. He wanted me to have something that was truly mine. I missed those days.

I couldn’t tell whether my way or Savannah’s way was better. But it was obvious that Savannah was special to Mason. I felt the ache of jealousy, sharp and sudden.

Maybe it was just the timing, or maybe she really was what he needed. I tried not to feel jealous, but the ache lingered. I wondered if Mason saw her the way he saw me—if he’d ever look at her and see forever. Maybe that was the difference between first love and the love that comes after loss. I bit my lip.

After that, Savannah was promoted to Mason’s personal assistant. The two of them were together almost every day—eating lunch during work, going to the movies on weekends and holidays. Everyone could see how Mason treated her differently. The staff all talked about it, happy that Mason was finally moving on:

The office buzzed with gossip, little snippets of conversation floating through the halls. People smiled when they saw Mason and Savannah together, nudging each other and whispering behind their hands. Even the grumpiest coworkers seemed a little lighter, like they were rooting for Mason to find happiness again. I felt like a ghost in my own story.

"Our boss Mason is really devoted. Ever since Ellie passed, he basically lived at the office, working day and night."

There was a kind of reverence in their voices when they spoke about me. It was strange, hearing my name tossed around like a legend, a ghost story told over coffee breaks. I wondered if they remembered the real me, or just the version Mason kept alive in his grief. The nostalgia was bittersweet.

"I was always curious why Mason kept staring out the window. Later I found out there’s a new bakery across the street—it was Ellie’s favorite cake shop. That afternoon, Mason was so distracted, he messed up several contracts, which was so unlike him."

I smiled, remembering those afternoons—me dragging Mason across the street for cupcakes and coffee, him pretending to grumble but always giving in. I could almost taste the frosting, feel the warmth of his hand in mine. The memory made my heart ache. Even now, those memories felt alive, flickering at the edges of the present.

"Ellie was wonderful. Every time she came to the office, she’d order us afternoon coffee."

Their words were kind, colored by fondness. It was comforting, in a way, to know I’d left a mark, however small. I hoped Mason heard their stories, that he knew how much he was loved—not just by me, but by everyone around him. I felt a small spark of pride.

"Yeah, but people have to move forward. If Mason’s ready to start a new life, we should all be happy for him."

That was the truth of it. Life moves on, even when we wish it wouldn’t. I tried to let their words comfort me, to remind myself that Mason deserved a second chance at happiness. Still, a tiny part of me wanted to cling to the past, to the life we’d built together. I sighed.