They Caught Her Flower for Someone Else, So I Kept the Groom Fate Gave Me Chapter 12

They Caught Her Flower for Someone Else, So I Kept the Groom Fate Gave Me Chapter 12

He thought of Calla.

The first time he saw her, she was standing in the Hales’ yard. Small and thin, she’d called out shyly, “Ethan.”

Her voice was soft as cotton candy—so sweet it seemed to melt.

Haven had smiled and said, “This is Cora Tate’s daughter. Her name’s Calla.”

He’d looked at Calla. Her eyes were like a startled deer’s—the kind that made you want to protect her.

Without realizing it, he started “looking after” her the same way he looked after Haven—only more so, more carefully.

When her mother got sick, he’d take time off work and come all the way back to town to help.

When her mother pushed her into the Maypole Choosing, he’d stepped up to handle everything—her knight in shining armor from start to finish.

She was like a flower that needed constant watering.

He loved being needed. Loved feeling like her savior, like he could fix anything.

But Haven was never like that.

She fell without crying. Burned herself without a sound. Swallowed every hurt alone.

—

He thought she didn’t need him. Thought she was strong enough—tough enough to be moved around without ever breaking.

Until today.

Seeing her kneel before the Maypole Goddess statue. Seeing that scarred hand reach for the incense, steady and sure. Seeing her never once look back at him.

It hit him all at once…

She hadn’t been born unbreakable. She’d grown up in a house where no one ever cried out for her. She’d learned early to swallow every grievance and hide every wound.

She thought marriage would be different.

But in the end, even he—her fiancé—had treated her silence as permission. Hadn’t seen her pain. Hadn’t heard her silence.

Had taken for granted that she’d always be there, always waiting, never walking away.

He stood on the creek bank, breathing hard.

Dusk closed in from every direction.

By the time he reached the west side of town, the house was empty.

A neighbor spotted him running up, drenched in sweat, and called out vaguely: “Hey, you here for the wedding? Too late! They finished the ceremony and took off right after. Didn’t even have a reception. Said they were heading back to the city.”

“Kids these days—won’t even let the neighbors have a drink to toast

—

’em…”

Ethan stood at the gate, gasping.

The paleness in his face had reached his eyes.

He pushed the door open. The place was spotless.

On the table, next to an empty glass, a note was pinned down.

He picked it up. One line, in her handwriting:

[Thank you for the Maypole Match]

Ethan gripped the note and sank to his knees.

In the distance, the music finally started.

A lively wedding tune, one note after another.

Ethan stayed on the ground. Didn’t look up.

He didn’t remember how he walked back.

The reception was loud. Harold clapped him on the shoulder. “Big day—don’t look so glum.”

Landon came over with a glass. “Calla’s waiting for you to toast her.”

Calla had changed into a red dress and was seated at the head table, a small smile on her lips.

He picked up a glass. And another. And another.

The next day, he went back to the city.

Every message he sent me went unanswered. The last one came

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