Chapter 2: Moonlit Arrangements

Caleb and I were matched up by Natalie Summers.

She’d landed herself a perfect husband and couldn’t stand the idea of me still single. All because I’d once given her a hot meal when she was broke.

Natalie said, all bright-eyed, "Caleb is a really good guy! Don’t judge Caleb by his grumpy face—he’s a total softie, trust me. He’ll treat you right, Lillian."

I just smiled and let her talk. Like Caleb York would ever want to marry me.

But I never expected that someone could love Natalie so much he’d do anything she asked—even marry her friend.

Natalie set up a private meeting for us. Maple trees arched over a misty lake, the moon glinting on the water, trails winding through the shadows. The lake shimmered under the moon, and somewhere in the distance, a bullfrog croaked. The air smelled like wet grass and woodsmoke.

If anyone saw us, my reputation would be toast.

Natalie gave Caleb a little nudge, then darted away, giggling behind her hand.

As soon as Natalie disappeared, Caleb’s gentle look dropped. His jaw clenched, and for a second, the air between us felt twenty degrees colder. The man standing there was all sharp edges—broad shoulders, narrow waist, and not an ounce of warmth. He looked like a statue carved from moonlight.

Honestly, he was one of the most attractive guys I’d seen in my eighteen years. The other was Grant Evans, the mayor’s son.

Caleb edged away from me, like he couldn’t wait to put space between us. I didn’t try to make conversation either.

We stood in silence until we finally made our way out of the woods, not saying a word. Caleb walked ahead, his steps long and fast. I followed, trailing half a step behind.

Suddenly, he stopped short and I almost bumped into him. I looked up and saw Natalie waiting, head down, nudging stones with her shoe.

When she saw us, surprise flashed across her face. She glanced between us, then pouted, "Caleb, didn’t you get along with Lillian? She’s my best friend. If you hurt her, I’ll never forgive you."

A flicker of something crossed Caleb’s face before he gave her a bitter, disappointed smile.

And just like that—

The next day, Caleb showed up at my house to propose.

Even a small-town girl has her name to protect.

Natalie made the rounds at city hall, and suddenly my marriage was set. When the announcement was read, my dad was over the moon, but I just stood there in a daze.

My hands shook as I clutched the edge of my dress. I wanted to scream, but the words stuck somewhere behind my teeth. In a trance, I muttered, "I don’t want this," but no one heard me.

Even on our wedding night, it all felt unreal—until Caleb looked at me, cold as ice, and said, "I won’t touch you."

That was when it hit me: this wasn’t a weird dream. This was real.

That night, Caleb drank like he was trying to drown something. He took shot after shot, eyes locked on Natalie. He stared so hard, Grant Evans started to look uncomfortable.

In the candlelight, a rare flush colored Caleb’s cheeks. It was a strangely beautiful look.

And suddenly, I understood why Natalie had insisted on pairing me with Caleb. As long as I was his wife, he’d never marry anyone else.

For a second, I wondered—if I took advantage of his drunkenness and slept with him, what would Natalie’s face look like when she found out? A part of me, even if just for a split second, was tempted by the chaos—if only to shake Natalie out of her certainty that she could always control the board. But even the thought left a bitter taste, one that didn’t belong to me.