Chapter 1

One year after we broke up, I suddenly heard my celebrity ex's thoughts.

At this moment, we were filming a live reality show together.

The host smiled and asked him, "Mr. Deangelo Curry, do you still have any feelings for your ex?"

His expression remained calm, his tone distant. "No. It's all in the past."

But in his mind, I heard a storm raging, "Feelings? I'm losing my mind. She's wearing rose perfume today, the scent I can never resist. Why is she thinner again? Is she skipping meals? Damn it. I want to drag her over and feed her until she gains weight."

I was shocked.

I couldn't survive another single day on this show.

*****

"Miss Amber Curry, there's been a lot of speculation about why you and Mr. Deangelo Curry broke up a year ago. Can you share the real reason with us today?" the host asked.

The spotlight blasted onto my face, scorching hot. My grip on the mic tightened, and sweat instantly broke out across my palm.

This was it. The trap I'd been waiting for all night. The sharpest knife finally pointed right at me.

I flashed the perfect smile I'd rehearsed a thousand times, all while cursing my agent, Alana Calhoun, in my head for the ninety-ninth time.

"A heartwarming interview to boost my exposure"? Yeah right. This was a public execution. They wouldn't stop until they had wrung every last drop of blood out of me.

My brain went into overdrive, scrambling for the most flawless and unassailable excuse I could come up with.

But just then, a cold, bone-deep familiar voice blasted through my mind without warning.

[What's she gonna say? That we weren't compatible? That we were always apart? Or... that she never loved me at all?]

I went rigid, feeling like my blood had frozen solid.

I recognized that voice instantly. It was Deangelo's.

I jerked my head up, squinting through the blinding stage lights until my eyes locked onto Deangelo right in the middle of the judges' table.

He was sitting there as the special guest, rocking a perfectly tailored black suit, looking as distant and aloof as ever, his head down as he casually glanced at the show's rundown.

He hadn't said a word.

Was this just my imagination? Was I so hung up on the breakup that I was actually hallucinating his voice?

Seeing me freeze up, the host nudged me again, "Amber? Is it really that hard to say?"

[Just answer already, dummy. Say something, anything. Don't just stand there and let everyone laugh at you.]

That voice came back again.

This time, I was sure. It was so vivid, so real, carrying that signature Deangelo magnetism, with just a touch of impatience. The voice wasn't coming from the room; it was ringing right inside my skull.

I was going crazy. Seriously, I was losing my mind.

It had been a year since we broke up, and not only was I still hung up on him, but now I had somehow unlocked the superpower of hearing my ex's inner voice.

[Just say I was too clingy.]

Suddenly, that voice in my head gave me a direct order.

It was like I was on autopilot. The words just tumbled out before I could stop them. "Because he... was too clingy."

The moment I said it, the whole place went dead silent.

Even the seasoned host was stunned, looking at me like I'd just dropped the wildest bombshell ever. His face basically screamed, "Are you serious right now?"

I saw Deangelo grip the rundown so tight the edges crumpled. He looked up, and there was a storm raging in his eyes I couldn't even decipher.

And inside his head, it was a full-on volcanic eruption.

[Clingy? Me? Amber, do you even have a shred of conscience? When I was locked away writing songs, who was the one who only sent me a single "goodnight" text every day?]

[When you were filming in the mountains with no signal for an entire month, who never once called to check on me? I was ready to livestream my whole life just to make you feel secure, and now you accuse me of being clingy?]

I froze.

What... the hell?

My career suddenly felt like that crumpled script in Deangelo's hand, folded, twisted, and waiting to be tossed aside by fate.

To hide my embarrassment, I only dug myself deeper. "Yeah... he was just too controlling," I forced a laugh. "If I rehearsed with a male actor, he'd sulk for days. That kind of suffocating affection was unbearable, so..."

While talking, I kept stealing glances at Deangelo.

His expression had shifted from shock to complete stillness. The air around him felt so cold it might freeze over.

And inside his mind, it was no longer an eruption. It was a catastrophic collision of planets.