He Chose Another Bride During the Ritual—So I Chose a New Groom Instead Chapter 01

He Chose Another Bride During the Ritual—So I Chose a New Groom Instead Chapter 01

In our small mountain town of Blackwood Valley, there had been one tradition that had survived for more than a century.

On a bride’s wedding day, she had to invite nine unmarried women to stand beside her.

All ten women would wear identical vintage lace wedding gowns and heavy cathedral veils that completely concealed their faces.

They would line up before the forest altar beneath the towering pines while the groom, blindfolded with a strip of black cloth, relied solely on touch to find his bride.

Whichever woman’s hand he chose would become his wife.

Today, my boyfriend, Ethan Brooks, stood before the town elders with a blindfold covering his eyes.

I stood seventh in line.

My thumb brushed over the raised scar on my wrist, the one I knew by heart. Calm and certain, I waited for him to find me.

Then his fingers touched my skin.

For three seconds, he lingered.

And just as quickly, he jerked away as if he’d been burned.

The next moment, he reached past me and grabbed Luna Miller’s hand.

The ceremonial Oath Ribbon was tied around her wrist.

Cheers erupted around us.

Whistles pierced the air.

Everyone rushed toward the happy couple.

I pulled off my veil and stood forgotten at the edge of the celebration like the punchline to the town’s biggest joke.

While everyone crowded around the newly matched pair, I slipped away behind the old lodge to catch my breath.

That’s when I overheard Ethan talking to his best man through an open window.

“Damn, Ethan,” his friend said. “Ava got that scar saving your life. How did you not recognize it?”

Ethan’s answer came without hesitation.

“I recognized it.”

My chest tightened.

“That’s exactly why I didn’t choose her.”

The best man fell silent.

Ethan continued calmly.

“Old John doesn’t have much time left. The doctors say he’s hanging on by a thread, and the only thing keeping him going is seeing Luna get married.”

He paused.

“Besides, Luna and I already got legally married at City Hall. Today’s ceremony is just for him.”

“What about Ava?” the best man demanded. “You know what the old mountain traditions say. If the groom chooses the wrong bride, it’s considered a broken fate match. Around here, that’s basically a bride swap.”

Ethan laughed softly.

“You don’t get it.”

His voice carried absolute confidence.

“Ava’s been in love with me for eight years.”

He sounded almost amused.

“Even if she’s upset, she’ll cool off after a few days. Once Old John passes peacefully, Luna and I will file for divorce.”

Then he added casually,

“Next year’s Harvest Festival comes around, I’ll just choose Ava then.”

I stood there for a long time.

Long enough for the nausea to settle in my stomach.

Long enough for the heartbreak to become something colder.

Finally, I pulled out my phone and sent a text.

[Are you available?]

A few seconds later, I sent another.

[I happen to be in need of a groom.]

…

After receiving a reply, I forced down the bitterness clawing at my chest and walked back toward the brightly lit wedding barn.

Candles flickered from every corner.

Old John had been bedridden for weeks, yet tonight he looked more alive than he had in months.

Sitting beside the fireplace, he clasped Ethan and Luna’s joined hands with trembling fingers.

His face glowed with happiness.

I watched from behind a curtain of ivy.

Only ten minutes earlier, when the Oath Ribbon had been tied around Luna’s wrist, someone had shouted:

“He picked Luna! The match is official!”

“Looks like Luna’s the bride today!”

I had instinctively stepped forward to stop the whole thing.

Then Old John suddenly became emotional.

“Good… good…” he kept saying. “I finally got to see my granddaughter get married…”

The room instantly fell silent.

Every person in the barn turned toward the old man.

Ethan noticed me standing outside the crowd.

His expression changed immediately.

He hurried over and lowered his voice.

“Ava, Old John’s confused again. He’s probably having another episode and thinks this is Luna’s actual wedding.”

He glanced toward the gathering crowd.

“Everything happened too fast. I don’t even know why I grabbed the wrong hand.”

A lie.

Every word of it.

“Now everyone’s watching. We have to go along with it.”

He softened his tone.

“Please. Just think of an old man’s final wish. This ceremony isn’t legally binding anyway.”

I stared at him.

“What exactly does that make me?”

He answered as though the solution were obvious.

“The woman on my marriage certificate will always be you.”

Then he smiled.

“Let Luna have the ceremony. After Old John passes, I’ll give you the biggest church wedding this town has ever seen.”

Before I could respond, he turned away.

Moments later, he knelt beside Luna in front of Old John.

“I promise I’ll take care of Luna,” he vowed solemnly. “I’ll never let anything hurt her.”

The scene felt unreal.

Cruel.

I stepped forward, determined to expose the truth.

Several townspeople immediately stopped me.

“Ava, let him have this.”

“Old John’s happier than he’s been in years.”

“The doctors said he doesn’t have much time left.”

Another woman added,

“Come on. This old tradition doesn’t mean anything anymore.”

“Everyone knows you and Ethan are together.”

“It’s only one ceremony.”

“Be the bigger person.”

Surrounded by generations of small-town expectations and pressure, I swallowed every ounce of humiliation.

My fingers drifted back to the scar on my wrist.

Eight years ago, Ethan had fallen through the ice into a frozen river.

I had smashed through the ice to pull him out.

The jagged rocks and broken ice had ripped open my wrist so badly that I needed more than a dozen stitches.

I remembered crying in the hospital afterward.

“It’s ugly,” I’d told him. “My future boyfriend is going to hate it.”

Ethan had taken my wrist gently.

Then he’d lowered his head and kissed the scar.

“Ugly?”

His voice had been full of conviction.

“Not a chance.”

He pressed another kiss against my skin.

“When you marry me someday, I’ll find you with my eyes closed.”

He smiled.

“All I’ll need is this scar.”

“I’ll never mistake your hand for anyone else’s.”

Eight years later, the wound no longer hurt.

But tonight, it suddenly burned.

Then Old John spotted me.

His eyes brightened.

“Ava,” he called. “You’re not getting any younger.”

He chuckled warmly.

“Luna’s married now. When are you finally bringing home a boyfriend?”