In the distance, a slender figure observed him intently.

It was Elvira.

She watched him for an extended moment, witnessing his intoxicated state and his longing gaze directed towards the upper floors.

Elvira understood that he yearned for Rena She pondered whether Waylen genuinely fell for Rena.

He hadn't answered Elvira's calls in recent days.

He no longer visited her at the hospital, even when she caused a commotion.

It seemed as though he had cast aside any concern for Elvira, as if she held no significance in his life.

Elvira wondered if Waylen regretted his choices.

Elvira approached him, attempting to lend a hand.

“Waylen, you're drunk."

Abruptly, Waylen forcefully pushed her away. Stepping back two paces, his eyes bloodshot, he muttered, "Get lost! I don't want to see you...

Rena will be unhappy if she finds out I've met you. She will cry. I only want her..."

Elvira stood in shock.

"Waylen, I would shed tears too."

Continuing to retreat, Waylen hastily departed.

It seemed as though... if he were to gaze upon Elvira for another moment, Rena would never return, even though deep down he knew that Rena would never come back.

Just as Harold had suggested, Rena merely needed to heal her wounds, fall in love with someone else, and marry...

In the darkness of the night, Elvira trembled uncontrollably.

She had lost.

In her desperation to hold onto Waylen, she had repeatedly slashed her wrists, resulting in a loss of vitality.

Though her appearance had diminished after losing copious amounts of blood... she had still lost.

Waylen's thoughts were consumed by Rena.