Chapter 3: The Choice That Changed Everything

Nobody twisted my arm—I picked Ethan. That’s what stings the most. I was blind, but I wouldn’t let regret pin me down forever.

That year, word came from the northern border: the Brooks men—all of them—were lost in action. The telegram came in on a rainy Sunday, just as the church bells finished ringing. The postmaster looked like he’d rather be anywhere else as he handed it over. Ours was a house full of honor, but now I was the last Brooks left.

The governor promised me a life of comfort—even said I could pick my own husband. He just wished me peace and happiness. The kindness felt real, the sort of thing folks talked about at the Memorial Day parade.

The mayor lined up the eligible bachelors on the courthouse lawn, the whole town watching like it was the Fourth of July parade. From a distance, I pointed at the one standing with a fencing sword—Ethan Caldwell.

I chose him because he was different. He didn’t joke with the other boys or show off. He just stood quietly, eyes steady, sword balanced like it belonged in his hand.

After my father and brothers died, local society women whispered I was a jinx, a bad omen. I had no one left. I cried alone, hidden by thick velvet drapes in the old Brooks parlor.

Ethan passed by and handed me a plain handkerchief. His voice was gentle: "The Brooks family is full of heroes. You shouldn’t have to put up with that. You’re a general’s daughter—don’t sell yourself short."

A few days later, the governor punished those who insulted me. The mayor, pitying my loneliness, made me her honorary sister. She introduced me at every gathering, always making sure I belonged. For the first time in months, I felt like I had a home again.

That small kindness from Ethan, I never forgot.

But I didn’t want to force him to marry me, so I went to the training field to ask him straight up.

He was practicing, tall and sure, the blade shining in the sun. The clang of metal mixed with a radio’s faint tune drifting through the air.

Blushing, I looked up and asked, "Will you marry me?"

He blinked, surprised, then sheathed his sword and nodded. "Sure." No fancy words, just a promise.

After the engagement, I was over the moon. I was stubborn back then. Now, I regret it. If only I’d known how much pain could hide behind a smile.

I explained everything to the mayor, begging her to annul the engagement. The one who wanted to marry him was me; the one who wanted out was me, too. It felt selfish, but it was the only way I could breathe again.

The governor had three wives and four partners—the mayor had seen it all. I thought she’d be mad or try to talk me into staying.

"Are you sure about this?" the mayor asked.

I nodded, steady.

She just sighed, squeezing my hand. "Silly girl, the Brooks family gave everything for this country. You have every right to do what you want."

"If I can’t look out for you, what’s the point of family?"

I leaned against her lap and cried. She stroked my hair, humming the lullaby my mother used to sing when thunder rattled the windows.

"That reckless man isn’t worth you."

"There are plenty of good men in town. I’ll find a better one for you. This time, listen to me."

I shook my head. In this world, the rarest thing isn’t a big wedding, but two people who really care. If I can’t have that, I’d rather stay alone. I meant every word.

When I returned to the Caldwell house, dusk was falling. I looked up at the brass nameplate, shining cold in the sunset. The streetlights flickered on, stretching shadows across the porch.

After the engagement, Ethan, worried I had no family left at the Brooks house, moved me into the Caldwell place as a guest until I turned twenty. He led me to the west wing, closest to his study. "From now on, treat this as your home."

"No one here will dare mess with you."

But today, the one who hurt me most was him. His words echoed, but now they felt empty.

"Harper," I called. "Pack up everything I brought."