Chapter 8: The Wedding and the Promise

Caleb and Jenny’s wedding was set for the end of June. It was rushed, but there was no choice—any later and her pregnancy would be impossible to hide.

In Silver Hollow, folks notice everything—especially a wedding timed a little too conveniently. The invitations went out with barely a week’s notice.

In my last life, my wedding with him was grand; this time, his wedding with Jenny was cold and empty.

No one brought covered dishes or hung bunting from the trees. The silence from the community was louder than any protest.

A new valedictorian should have been in high demand, but everyone knew he’d offended the mayor, and no one wanted to risk crossing the Parkers for a young man with an uncertain future.

Even the church ladies whispered, shaking their heads as they crossed the street. The mayor’s favor—or lack of it—was everything in a town like this.

What’s more, the valedictorian should have been offered a spot at the state legislature, but for some reason, the second and third place grads had already gotten jobs, while Caleb had no offer at all.

It didn’t add up. People noticed. In America, success should be a straight line, but here was Caleb, left standing in the dust.

Their wedding was held in a tiny rental house the Monroe family managed to find. The place was cramped, but Caleb spent a lot, hiring outside caterers for $500 a table, setting up ten tables, and even borrowing the neighbor’s backyard.

The backyard was strung with dollar-store fairy lights, folding chairs rented from the VFW. Someone’s old Weber grill smoked in the corner, and the smell of burnt hot dogs drifted over the fence.

Caleb looked tired, his shirt sleeves rolled up, sweat staining his collar. It was a far cry from the country club wedding I’d once had.

In the end, not a single official came; only two tables were filled with neighbors.

The rest of the chairs stayed empty, the catering platters barely touched. Jenny’s smile faltered as she looked around, realizing what she’d traded for love.

I heard Caleb’s face was dark the whole time.

People talked about it for weeks—the way he glared at his own reflection in the wedding photos.

He thought my dad had interfered, and when I went to the jewelry store to buy a necklace, he waited for me—after ten years as husband and wife, he really did know my routines well.

He caught up to me in the parking lot, the sound of cicadas humming around us. For a moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the world.

“Do you think I rose to power last time just because of your dad?” he said angrily. “The governor’s son valued me because we shared the same vision and drive, and because I actually have the talent to help him run things.”

His voice was low, desperate. He wanted me to believe he could do it all on his own.

He sneered at me. “You really think this is enough to stop me?”

I met his gaze, letting him see just how wrong he was. I walked away, the cicadas screaming louder than my heartbeat, and promised myself: next time, it’ll be Caleb who loses everything.