Chapter 3: Standing My Ground

Chris was still standing outside the door, waiting for me to back down like usual. When I didn’t say anything for a long time, his tone grew a bit impatient.

He was never good at waiting for answers—he’d pace, tap his foot, check his watch. I could almost picture him out there now, jaw clenched, one hand shoved into his pocket, the other tracing circles on the porch rail, trying to stay in control.

“Emily.”

He always said my name the same way, clipped and careful, like he was afraid of what might come next.

I didn’t want to say anything more to him. I lowered my eyes and replied coolly, “I’m not overthinking it. I’m a little tired today. Chris, you should head home. My leg’s hurt, so I won’t walk you out.”

I made my voice sound casual, breezy, like his visit was just a minor interruption. But the way I gripped the arm of the chair said otherwise. I didn’t owe him any more explanations—not after everything.

Only then did Chris seem to remember that my leg had been hurt by him. He was quiet for a moment.

The silence between us stretched, heavy as the summer humidity outside. I wondered if he felt even a twinge of guilt, or if this was just another item on his long list of responsibilities to check off.

“Your leg… is it okay?”

He sounded almost uncertain, as if he had to remind himself to care.

“It’s fine. No need for you to worry.”

I put as much distance in those words as I could, wrapping myself in cool indifference. The ache in my calf pulsed, but I refused to show it.

He still wanted to say something, but just then a housekeeper opened the door, holding a thick folder in her hands.

“Miss, this is the dowry list your mom put together. She asked me to bring it for you to look over.”

The folder was heavy, the Carter family crest embossed on the front. I traced the edges absentmindedly, the future mapped out in neat columns and elegant script. My wedding to the Parker family was set for three months from now. It was a little rushed, but it was the best date the family could find in the next two years.

The Parkers were always busy—board meetings, charity galas, vacation homes in the Adirondacks. If you wanted a slot in their calendar, you had to act fast. I wondered if I’d ever get used to being someone’s appointment.

Before I could reply, Chris spoke first, his tone cold and a little annoyed. “Emily, before Lily’s marriage is settled, I won’t get married.”

The words landed like hail on the roof—sudden, sharp, and impossible to ignore.

If I’d heard this before, I probably would’ve cried in secret, feeling like even my own wedding had to take a back seat to Lily, but too afraid to object because of Chris’s so-called ‘principles.’

I’d have let those words gnaw at me, made excuses for him, convinced myself it was about loyalty, not about me being second-best. Not anymore.

But now, I just copied the way people in Chicago act, smiling as I praised him: “You really are something, Chris.”

I let my voice go bright, almost amused, like I was watching him from the outside. The way people in this city do when they see something just a little bit ridiculous—they smile, play along, and then move on. I felt lighter than I had in months.