Chapter 1

"Miss Lindley, are you absolutely sure about donating your remains?" the doctor asked.

He looked at my chart and the donation agreement with a frown.

"If we manage your condition with medication, you might have three months left," he explained.

"But if you stop treatment now, you'll have two weeks at most."

I stared at the paperwork, my mind strangely blank.

I understood his confusion, but he didn't know what happened today.

Earlier this evening, Jude Sterling had announced our engagement at his final world tour concert.

The whole world believed that every song he wrote over the last eight years was a love letter to me.

He even claimed he was retiring from the industry just to give me a sense of security.

But two hours ago, I stood backstage and watched him intimately entangled with his young assistant.

I picked up the pen and signed my name.

In two weeks, Jude Sterling would never be able to find me again.

1

I left the doctor's office and walked down the sterile hallway.

Two young girls were huddled together, watching a livestream of Jude's concert on their phones.

"Oh my god, Jude is such a soulmate!" one squealed.

"He confessed his love to Summer Lindley at his first show, and now he's proposing at his last. It's a fairytale!"

"I heard they were trapped during a mountain rescue years ago," the other whispered.

"Jude gave her all his supplies to keep her alive. That's why he disappeared for six months―to recover from the internal damage."

I froze as the melody of his hit song, "Midsummer Crush," filled the air.

He wrote that song for me right after he first confessed his feelings.

We did meet in the middle of a scorching summer.

Growing up with parents who hated each other, I never believed in love.

To me, a home was just a cage.

Jude spent years patiently showing me that a home could be a sanctuary.

He was the one who taught me how to love and be loved.

I had finally opened my heart to him, clumsily trying to return his warmth.

I had been so happy when he told me he'd announce our engagement at his biggest concert.

But yesterday, I received my terminal diagnosis.

I didn't know how to tell him.

I was so afraid the news would break him.

Yet, when I arrived backstage to find him, I saw him pinned against a table with his assistant, Celia Wood.

They were devouring each other.

"Who has better technique, me or Summer?" Celia asked, her arms wrapped around his neck.

Jude's expression darkened instantly.

"You have no right to compare yourself to her," he snapped. "Remember your place."

"If you stay in your lane, I'll keep you around as a toy. If you get greedy, you're gone."

"Are you sure about that?" Celia teased. "I don't think Summer can make you feel this good."

Jude looked annoyed and pushed her away for a second.

She panicked, apologizing while wrapping her legs around his waist like a snake.

His eyes went dark again as he flipped her back onto the table.

I clutched my medical report so hard the paper crumpled.

I couldn't reconcile the man who just declared his undying love to the world with the man I was watching now.

As I walked out of the hospital, the report slipped from my fingers.

Before I could pick it up, Jude ran toward me, looking frantic.

"Summer! What's wrong? Why didn't you tell me you were coming here?"

I looked at him in shock. He was supposed to be performing the second half of his set.

"Are you okay? Is something wrong? Let's go see a doctor right now!"

He looked so genuinely worried as he tried to pull me toward the entrance.