Chapter 4: A Marriage of Convenience

**Chapter Three**

It took me quite a while to understand—I had been reborn.

It was 1998, and I was seventeen. Earlier this year, my childhood sweetheart and fiancé, Caleb Evans, had broken off our engagement.

Caleb fell in love with a singer in a bar and was willing to break with his family to marry her.

He showed up at my door that night, reeking of cheap whiskey and bravado, and told me flat-out that he couldn't resist her voice, that he had to follow his heart. I stared at the chipped paint on the porch steps, knowing it was over before he finished talking.

Clearly, the Evans family was at fault, but the world was always especially harsh toward women.

As the news spread, people didn’t criticize Caleb for being heartless and fickle. Instead, they gossiped about me—the daughter of the wealthy Lee family, with good looks and a solid background, yet Caleb would rather choose a bar singer.

The phone wouldn’t stop ringing—relatives calling, neighbors whispering behind their hands. Someone even left an anonymous note in our mailbox: “What did you do to drive him away?” That stung worse than anything.

Did I have some hidden illness?

Maybe I was infertile, or maybe my sweet and gentle demeanor was all an act, and privately I was domineering and wild, drinking and gambling.

Gradually, my reputation was ruined.

Everywhere I went—church bake sales, the grocery store, even the library—people would lower their voices when I walked by, their eyes flicking over me as if searching for cracks in my façade. I’d never felt so alone.

This year, my mother held a grudge and searched everywhere for marriage prospects, wanting to find a family better than the Evans to prove a point.

But it backfired.

Others said that seventeen wasn’t that old—if there wasn’t really something wrong, why would she be so desperate after being rejected by the Evans family?

The Lee family’s daughter definitely had problems and couldn’t be married off.

The whispers only got louder. Even my piano teacher started hinting I should focus on my studies instead of worrying about “such things.” I wanted to hide, to shrink out of sight until everyone forgot my name.

Until late November, when Judge Shaw returned home on leave and announced he wanted to remarry.

Maple Heights was a small place with no prominent families.

Besides the county commissioner, the highest official everyone knew was Judge Henry Shaw.

He held a high-ranking federal position. Although he was stationed in Washington, D.C. most of the year and rarely returned home, no one dared look down on the Shaw family.

Because when the Vice President visited D.C., Judge Shaw had saved his life.

Young Ethan’s belongings were all the latest gadgets sent from the capital—things the people of Maple Heights had never even heard of, let alone seen.

Moreover, Judge Shaw wasn’t old—not even thirty this year, tall and imposing with a dignified appearance.

When word spread that he wanted to remarry, matchmakers swarmed the Shaw family, nearly breaking down their door.

It was all anyone could talk about at church potlucks and Friday night football games. Mothers dressed their daughters in their Sunday best even on weekdays, just in case the Shaws drove by. It felt like the whole town was holding its breath, hoping for a miracle.