Chapter 1: My Wedding, His Regret

I posted the digital invitation on Instagram. My ex responded by putting a photo of a baby on his Story. He tagged me.

"Done with the silent treatment? Pepper had the baby. Time to get over it. Come see how cute the kid is."

The comments flooded in immediately. Mutual friends. Every single one of them taking his side.

"Rowan, look at that little face. Camden chose you. He wants you to be this baby's mother. That means something. Can't you give him a chance?"

"Think about all those years. Don't throw everything away over one mistake."

I glanced at my fiancé cooking in the kitchen. Then I posted a photo of our marriage license next to a positive pregnancy test. My reply went up right under it.

"I have my own man. My own child. And you—you're ancient history. I don't recycle trash."

The comment section went dead silent. Camden blew up my phone. I didn't answer a single call.

We were supposed to get married. Have a baby. Everything was set. Then three months before the wedding, Camden posted a marriage license on Instagram. His name. My stepsister's name. Next to her maternity photos.

The caption read: Legally welcoming our little one into the world.

My stepsister commented with a shy-face emoji.

My mother liked the post. She wrote, "Once the baby's here, I'll take care of everything. You two just enjoy each other."

I couldn't stop myself. I dropped a question mark.

Camden's rage hit me like a wall.

"She just needed my help to have the baby. That's all."

"Don't be so petty. My mom said you need to produce an heir before the wedding too. This works out fine."

I made a soft sound. No words. Then I deleted every post connected to Camden. Every single one. I put up something new.

"Groom wanted. Who's applying?"

My friends thought I was joking. They clowned around in the comments.

Then I saw a reply that stopped me cold.

Can I apply?

It was the boy I grew up with. Beckett.

After I got together with Camden, he moved to the East Coast. We hadn't spoken in a long time.

I was still processing the memory when my phone rang. Beck.

I fumbled to answer. His voice came through clear and urgent.

"Ro. I saw your post."

"You said you need a groom. Am I right for the job?"

"You know I've spent these years on the East Coast building my career. No mess. No entanglements. Nothing."

While he spoke, an email landed in my inbox.

I opened it. Property documents. A house. Not one of the ones Camden and I had toured. This was the house I'd described to Beck when I was fifteen. The one from my dreams. White fence. Old oak tree.

Purchase date: three years ago.

There was a letter attached. It started with: "For the day you finally look back at me—"

The sentence was never finished.

I stared at those incomplete words on the screen. My nose burned.

I remembered being a kid. Our teacher gave him two of his favorite candies as a reward. Beck wanted them. I could see it in his eyes. He didn't eat either one. Saved them both for me.

He'd always given me everything. Every single time.

My voice cracked.

"I will."

Love had always felt like smoke. I'd reached for it once. Got burned down to nothing. I'd thought maybe being alone wouldn't be so bad.

But before my grandmother passed, I made her a promise at her bedside. I told her I'd find happiness.

Camden never deserved to be part of that promise. But Beck—Grandma always liked Beck.

She used to say the way that boy looked at me. Like he could look at me forever and it still wouldn't be enough.

If he was the groom, Grandma would be smiling. Somewhere. Up there.

Beck's voice spilled over with something raw.

"I'll wrap things up. Two weeks. I'll be back to marry you."

"Ro. You'll wait for me. You won't change your mind again. Right?"

His voice held a note of something almost wounded. It hit me sideways. I remembered being kids. I'd promised to be his bride someday.

I made a soft sound of agreement.

Something swelled in my throat. A sting.

"Beck. I'll wait."