Chapter 1

I've been with Emma Sinclair for ten years.

I even tattooed her favorite flower, a gardenia, on my collarbone.

She finally agreed to marry me, but she's been keeping an 18-year-old college boy on the side.

Before our wedding, she indulged the boy's countdown to our breakup.

She went bungee jumping with him, skiing, and even watched the Northern Lights in Iceland.

But she doesn't know that I don't have much time left.

I've booked a flight out of the country, donated all her assets, and had my tattoo removed.

While she's counting down the days to our wedding, I'm planning my escape.

The day I was diagnosed with stomach cancer, Emma's boy toy came to find me.

"I know I'm the other man," he said, his honesty terrifyingly sincere.

He bit his lip, "Bro, I know you're about to get married, but—"

"Emma doesn't love you anymore."

"I've been with her for a year. We've slept together 78 times, 53 times in hotels, 21 times at my place."

"And 4 times at your place, in your bed."

He looked at me directly, "If Emma still loved you, I wouldn't exist."

I found it amusing.

I lit a cigarette and looked at him through the smoke, "What else? Go on."

He took out his phone and played a video for me.

The angle was discreet, as if secretly recorded.

The boy was nestled in Emma's arms, "Even if you're marrying him out of responsibility, can't you keep me too?"

Emma pushed him away, tossing him a credit card, "Find a girl your own age. Being with me isn't good for you."

"No!"

He begged, holding her waist, "I'm not afraid of danger."

"Can't you not let me go?"

"Emma, I won't be a burden to you, I promise."

Emma paused.

Her gaze swept over his face, momentarily lost in thought.

Then she leaned in to kiss him.