Chapter 1

After being subjected to Lucas Reed's cold treatment for two months, I was diagnosed with a strange illness.

Two months ago, Lucas missed our tenth anniversary because he went to Charlotte Evans's party.

Normally, I'd pick him up after these parties, but this time, I forgot and went to bed early after washing up.

A month ago, Lucas received a distress call from Charlotte and immediately turned back on the highway, leaving me behind.

I walked home to prepare dinner and noticed him frowning as he picked through the onions, only then realizing I had forgotten his taste preferences.

After many days, he called me first. His tone sounded rather cold as he said, "Eve, I only see Charlotte as my little sister. Can you stop being jealous?

"Trying to scare me by disappearing? Come home quickly, and I might let it slide this time."

I froze for a moment, lost in thought. Home? Where is that supposed to be? In this vast city, did we ever have a real home? Honestly, I can't remember.

I stayed quiet. Lucas let out a deep sigh as he asked, "Where are you? I'll come pick you up."

I sent him my location, and in no time, a few cars pulled up in front of me. For a second there, I had no idea which one belonged to Lucas.

A black Maybach honked, its window rolling down as Lucas called out, "Eve, over here."

I got in the car, a few raindrops landing on my shoulder. Lucas leaned in with a handkerchief, gently brushing them away for me.

He remarked, "I thought you remembered my license plate. You could tell it was me from the sound of the horn before. What happened today?"

Did I? Ever since things turned cold between us, I had noticed my memory slipping, but only when it came to Lucas.

A checkup at the hospital told me the truth. Lucas's growing distance pushed me into stress-induced amnesia.

Little by little, I started forgetting all the good times we had together.

I answered him calmly, "I forgot."

His tone, however, grew unsettled, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel.

He pressed, "Did you forget, or are you just mad at me for leaving you by the road that day to go help Charlotte?

"Charlotte and I grew up together. I've always thought of her as my little sister. If there were anything more, we would have been together ages ago."

I dug the medical report out of my bag and placed it in the center console storage.

Then I said, "I'm sick. I forget things sometimes."

We got home quickly. Lucas's expression became serious as he grabbed the report and leaned in to examine it carefully.

After a moment, he let out a breath, but helplessness flickered across his face.

"Are you making up an illness to compete for my attention? Hoping I'll treat you differently if you come up with something like this?

"If you're going to make something up, at least pick a better excuse. Stress-induced amnesia? Come on, that's such an obvious lie."

I stood there in disbelief, unable to wrap my head around why he wouldn't trust me.

This was an official report from a Class-A hospital, signed and stamped by a renowned specialist.

I looked up at the face I'd known for a decade. It was so familiar, yet somehow, the man behind it felt like a stranger.

I remembered back when I went to play a murder mystery game and accidentally brought home a fake medical slip for "narcolepsy".

The moment Lucas saw it, his eyes turned red, and he immediately started calling every big name in the medical field to get me treated.

I laughed and reassured him, "It's just a prop, really. Anyone could tell this illness is made up."

But he wouldn't drop it. No matter what I said, he dragged me to the hospital for a full check-up, only breathing easy when the doctors confirmed I was healthy.

Lucas's love and the way it faded were written all over his face. Even the tiniest reminiscence tugged at my heart until it hurt.

A gut-wrenching ache washed over me, making every breath feel like a struggle.

It took me ages to collect myself, to even feel alive again. Still, it was like a piece of my heart was missing, and every time I thought about it, that emptiness stabbed right through me.

Lucas bent down and picked up a wooden box from the floor, then carefully took out a sparkling crown.

He said, "Here, your custom crown just arrived."

This was a specially designed piece. But as I looked at it, I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

I questioned, "Didn't we agree to set a pink diamond in the center? Why did it turn yellow?"

Lucas suddenly grew flustered, his hands fumbling as he tried to place the crown on my head.

"Yellow diamonds are beautiful too. Pink would make you look washed out," he said quickly.

He's definitely covering it up. I saw the same crown at Charlotte's place, and the center held my favorite pink diamond.

Seeing him dodge my gaze, I didn't press further. My heart couldn't handle another blow.