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When I Die, I Will Still Keep You in My Heart Novel Cover

When I Die, I Will Still Keep You in My Heart

For ten years, from age sixteen to twenty-six, my entire world revolved around my devotion to Sam Smith. Yet, on the day he was diagnosed with an incurable disease, he was dating his first love. My life ended tragically on the night of our tenth anniversary. I never truly understood his feelings while alive, and the painful truth of Sam's love only came to light after death parted us forever.
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Chapter 1

I have loved Sam Smith for ten years, from 16 to 26 years old.

On the day he was diagnosed with an incurable disease, he was dating his first love.

Later on, I died. I died on the night, the last day of the tenth anniversary

I didn't know until Sam Smith died that he didn't love me.

He only found out that Sam Smith loved me after I died.

...

After walking out of the hospital, I took out my mobile phone and looked at the name on the top of the contact list. After hesitating for a long time, I finally dialed the number.

The phone was quickly picked up, and Sam Smith's cold voice came through the receiver. "Zoila Perry, what's wrong?"

She it was about to speak but again she stopped, and couldn't say anything.

How can I tell him that I was sick and about to die? There were only three months left for me now

"Are you coming back for dinner tonight?"

"Tonight?" Sam Smith hesitated and felt a little embarrassed. "Tonight... I'm a little busy."

Suddenly, I heard a happy female voice from the other end of the line. " Come on, Sam! It'll be our turn soon!"

All of a sudden, I felt as if my heart had been hit by something.

I almost forgot that Joseline Sampson had returned to USA today.

And Sam Smith was with her.

I hung up the phone and carefully put the diagnosis form in my bag.

I looked up and saw that the sun was about to set.

Me too.

Sam Smith didn't go home for dinner.

I curled up in the quilt and looked at the numbers on the electronic thermometer. I chuckled at myself and then zeroed the data.

A few months ago, I had been having a fever, nosebleeds, and dizziness intermittently. I thought it was just because I was under too much pressure at work and had a fever, but I fainted in the bathroom this morning.

After going to the hospital for a check-up, I learned that I had blood cancer.

The doctor told me that I was too late to see him, and he advised me to actively receive treatment. Otherwise, I would only have three months left.

I didn't receive the treatment and I just left.

Anyway, I was going to die.

I had no parents, no children, and no worries.

If I died, so be it.

I slept lightly and Sam Smith came back in the latter half of the night.

He lay under the quilt wearily, with a chill on his body.

There was also a faint smell of perfume.

I never wear perfume.

He hugged me from behind. "Zoila Perry, I'm back."

I rubbed his hand that was wrapped around my waist and stared at the dark corner of the room without saying a word.

After a long time, I whispered, "Sam Smith, I'm sick."

Unfortunately, as the response, I only heard the sound of even breathing coming from behind me.

Joseline's perfume was magnified in the darkness, which was extremely pungent and made me extremely annoyed.

All of a sudden, I wanted to give him a gift, but after I died.

It was rare for him to have a rest. When he passed by me, he gently pinched my cheek and asked, "Why did you lose weight?"

I was stiffened. "Really?"

"Yes, you look thinner now." He handed me an apple. "Take it."

I took it. The weight of the apple in my palm made my hand sink.

It turned out that an apple was so heavy after I got sick.

I bit my lip. "Sam Smith..."

"What's wrong?"

"Help me make an appointment for a physical examination in your hospital next week."

I'll give him a chance to find out that I was ill.

"Are you not feeling well?"

I smiled and nodded. "I seem to have lost weight recently."

Sam was pouring me a glass of water when he took the time to glance at me. "You don't look well. Don't think too much about it, because you’re just tired. Isn't your company preparing for an event recently? Mr. Gordan must be so working hard."

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