Chapter 8: Always the Sideline Girl

Not far away, I spotted the governor’s wife holding Will’s right hand, whispering something. Even from a distance, I could see the faint smile on his face—directed at her.

My stomach twisted. That chamomile tea churned inside me, making me queasy. I stared at them, nails digging into my palm until beads of blood welled up. They tugged back and forth over something—her handkerchief, I realized. In the end, she shoved it into his hand, wrapping it tight so he couldn’t refuse. Will didn’t fight it.

The comment section blew up:

[@TokenOfLove]: A personal handkerchief? They’re basically engaged! #shipping

[@MainHeroineWins]: The male lead’s like a lovesick college kid around her. She’s his one and only.

[u/TeaSpillQueen]: The side girl tried to light a fire, but the main chick put it out in two seconds flat. He’s so whipped.

[@SleepyDrama]: Bet he’s sleeping with her handkerchief tonight, lmao.

As they disappeared into the trees, leaves rustled and fell, scattering golden across the stone path.

A breeze swept through the yard, swirling the first autumn leaves around my feet. I watched Will clutch the handkerchief, caught in a story where I’d always be the outsider. The old mansion loomed, full of secrets and shadows, reminding me that some love stories were never meant for girls like me.

As the last leaf fluttered down, I realized—some girls are meant to haunt the sidelines. But not me. Not anymore. Tomorrow, I’d write my own story.