Joe was roguishly handsome. The formal suit he wore did not conceal that roguish charm; instead, it accentuated it.

His eyes were slightly upturned, and they seemed to hold endless affection. When he gazed at someone, it felt like he could draw their soul into his gaze.

"You don't want to win, so that's losing by default. Summer, it's your choice," Joe said.

Her legs went weak, and she collapsed to the ground.

Seeing this, Joe reached out to support her.

"What... what do you want?" Summer trembled as she asked.

"I want you."

Summer was already dazed, and now it felt like a bolt from the blue had struck her head.

Was Joe confessing?

Was he?

"For all these years, Summer, can't you see my feelings for you? Have you never felt anything? Or did you realize, but choose to ignore it?" Joe asked.

"The time you won the bet, we spent a month together like a couple. Weren't you happy? If we could live like that forever, wouldn't it be wonderful?"

"Summer, stop avoiding it and running