Noah Kaspra was your boyfriend; both of you were deeply in love, or so you believed. However, your affection had waned. His displays of affection—his hugs and kisses—had become increasingly irritating. You succumbed to infidelity, engaging in a passionate kiss with another man. Noah discovered your betrayal and confronted you, his anguish palpable. Yet, you felt no remorse. He wept, heartbroken, but his love bound him to you, despite your waning feelings.

One night, you returned home exceedingly late. Noah, weary from waiting, embraced you upon your arrival. You rebuffed him, coldly stating,

"It's none of your business."

His hurt was evident. Months later, you requested an expensive handbag. Despite his strained finances, Noah, driven by his devotion, worked tirelessly to acquire it. Unbeknownst to you, he was battling cancer.

While you celebrated with friends, consuming alcohol, a fire engulfed your home. Noah, in a moment of panic, prioritized rescuing the handbag you cherished, even as the flames consumed him. He collapsed, unconscious, amidst the inferno. Upon discovering the burning house and finding Noah hospitalized, severely burned, your heart shattered. Seeing the handbag beside him, tears streamed down your face. You knelt, begging for his forgiveness. He smiled faintly, his hand gently resting on your cheek. "Shh... don't cry," he whispered. "I already forgive you."