Chapter 2: Winter Formal, Old Regrets

When I opened my eyes again, I realized I’d been given another shot—a real second chance.

The ceiling above me was unfamiliar, but the ache in my chest was the same. For a second, I thought I was still dreaming—until I heard the sound of someone whispering in my ear, urgent and real.

Right then, Pete was whispering in my ear: “Lila, hurry up and tell him—come on, just let him go already. You’re never going to marry that guy.”

Pete’s voice snapped me back to the present, rough and impatient, like always. I could almost see his freckled face twisted with concern, his hand on my arm, trying to drag me back to myself. The old, familiar chaos of Pete—my childhood partner in crime—was suddenly all around me.

Still reeling from the shock, I just stared blankly at the person in front of me.

Everything felt slightly off-kilter, as if the world had been spun and set down in a new place. I blinked, trying to make sense of it all, the voices and faces swirling together in the cold air.

In the swirling snow, Shane stood there, untouched by it all.

He looked exactly as I remembered—tall and silent, snowflakes caught in his dark hair, eyes shadowed but steady. Not a scratch on him. It was impossible, but there he was, as real as the bitter wind biting my cheeks.

Tears slid down my cheeks as I murmured, “Shane…”

His name felt strange on my tongue. Like a prayer. Or maybe a confession. The tears came without warning, hot against my frozen skin. For a moment, I didn’t care who saw. It was just me and the boy I’d once been destined to marry, standing in the snow as if nothing had ever changed.

The icy wind stung my face, making this crazy moment of rebirth feel all too real.

Every breath hurt, sharp and cold, but I couldn’t look away from him. The world felt new and terrifying, but also full of possibilities I’d never dared to hope for. My heart hammered in my chest, alive in a way it hadn’t been for years.

Now I remembered.

Memories crashed over me, sharp and bright—the taste of hot chocolate, the sting of regret, the sound of laughter echoing down the halls of Maple Heights Country Club. I knew exactly where I was, and what was about to happen.

It was the night of the Winter Formal, the year I’d been told I had to marry Shane.

The words replayed in my head, as if I could still hear my father’s voice: “It’s settled, Lila. You’ll be engaged to Shane at the Winter Formal.” It felt like a bad dream, but now I knew it was real—and this time, I had a chance to do it differently.

Every year at the Winter Formal, the mayor would host a big family dinner. Maple Heights Country Club. Everyone in town came.

It was the event of the season—everyone dressed to the nines, the club glittering with Christmas lights, the scent of cinnamon and pine in the air. For one night, even the town’s oldest grudges were put on hold. I remembered the buzz of conversation, the clink of glasses, the sense that anything could happen beneath those chandeliers.

That year, Shane’s pickup broke down on the way, making him half an hour late. The mayor punished him—made him stand outside.

I could still see the look on Shane’s face as he stood in the snow, hands shoved deep in his pockets, jaw set against the cold. Everyone else was inside, laughing and warm, but he was left out in the bitter wind. Even now, the memory made my chest ache.

And the one behind all this—was me.

The realization hit me like a punch. I’d been so desperate to get out of the engagement that I’d let Pete talk me into a plan I barely understood. And now, seeing Shane standing there, I felt the weight of every choice I’d made.

Back then, I didn’t want to go through with the engagement. So I let Pete stand up for me.

Pete had always been the wild one, the kind of friend who’d break curfew just to make me laugh. He was loyal to a fault, always ready to fight my battles—even the ones I should’ve fought myself. I’d leaned on him, maybe more than I should have.

He found a way to bribe Shane’s mechanic, making sure the truck broke down on the road.

Pete had a way of getting things done, usually with a wink and a twenty slipped into the right palm. The plan was simple—keep Shane away, make a scene, force the issue. I’d gone along with it, too afraid to face Shane myself.

Pete bragged to me, “Just a little trick and he’s stuck outside freezing his butt off. Well? You happy now, Lila?”

His grin was cocky, but I could see the worry behind it. Pete always wanted to protect me, but he never really understood what I needed. I could feel his eyes on me, waiting for approval I couldn’t give.

I irritably tapped the table. “What’s the point? I still have to marry him, don’t I? Did you ever actually talk to him about it?”

My fingers drummed against the polished wood, the sound sharp and impatient. I was tired—tired of being pushed around, tired of feeling powerless. I wanted answers, but Pete only shrugged.

“Heck yes, I did! I talked to him, threatened him. I gave him a hard time—so much the mayor’s son told me to chill out,” Pete protested.

He threw up his hands, as if the whole world was conspiring against him. I could almost hear his voice rising, indignant and a little hurt. Pete always thought a little bravado could fix anything, but this time, it only made things worse.

“And he still won’t back out of the engagement?” I frowned.

My voice was sharper than I intended, but I couldn’t help it. Every word felt like a stone in my stomach, heavy and impossible to swallow. Pete just shook his head, frustration written all over his face.

“Who knows? Maybe he’s still holding onto some fantasy about you,” Pete narrowed his eyes. “If that’s really the case, why don’t you go down there and tell him yourself, crush his hopes for good.”

His words stung more than I expected. Pete could be blunt—too blunt, sometimes—but he wasn’t wrong. Maybe it was time I faced Shane myself, no more hiding behind other people.

“Good idea,” someone chimed in. The town’s golden kids, who’d been watching the snow, all crowded around, eager for the drama.

The room buzzed with excitement, everyone hungry for a show. I felt their eyes on me, their whispers sharp as knives. It was the kind of small-town moment that stuck with you forever, the kind that got retold at every family barbecue for years to come.

Everyone egged me on. Pete grabbed an umbrella and dragged me downstairs.

He was always the ringleader, pushing me forward whether I wanted to go or not. The umbrella was a flimsy shield against the snow, but it felt like I was walking into a storm much bigger than the one outside.

According to Pete’s plan, I was supposed to walk up with a cup of hot cocoa. Throw it in Shane’s face. Sneer. Tell him to stop dreaming—I’d never marry someone like him.

It sounded cruel when Pete said it, but at the time, I told myself it was just theater—a way to end things quickly. Now, standing at the threshold of my second chance, the whole thing seemed childish and mean.

But… something unexpected happened. I was reborn.

The world tilted, and suddenly, everything I’d known was up for grabs. The rules had changed, and I was the only one who knew it.

Shane’s eyelashes were dusted with snow. He looked… fragile, somehow.

Tiny white flakes clung to his lashes, melting slowly in the heat of his skin. He looked so vulnerable, so out of place in the glittering chaos of the country club. My heart twisted with guilt and something else—something I didn’t want to name.

In weather this cold, I could barely stand outside for a minute, yet he’d been forced to stand there all night because of me.

I shivered, remembering how quickly my fingers went numb in the cold. Shane, though—he just stood there, stubborn and silent, refusing to complain. He’d always been that way, even when the world seemed dead set against him.

Back then, the mayor had already left. But no one told Shane.

It was the kind of oversight that felt intentional, a quiet punishment for not belonging. Shane waited, loyal to a fault, never questioning whether he was wanted or not.

He stood there until midnight, not leaving until every light in the country club had gone out.

I could see it so clearly—the way he lingered, hoping someone would remember him, hoping someone would care. But the world moved on, and he was left alone in the dark.

He was stuck in bed with a fever for three days after that.

The news had spread through town like wildfire. “Shane’s laid up, poor kid,” the neighbors whispered. No one brought him soup or checked in. He was just a footnote, a cautionary tale.

And what was I thinking back then?

The truth made me wince. I’d been selfish, hiding behind excuses and hoping someone else would fix things for me. It was easier to blame Shane than to face my own fear.

Oh, I was thinking—if he stayed sick and couldn’t get up, maybe I wouldn’t have to marry him.

The thought made me sick now, but at the time, it felt like a way out. I told myself it wasn’t my fault, that I was just a pawn in someone else’s game. But now, I knew better.

“Lila, what are you spacing out for? Say something!” Pete stood beside me, umbrella in hand, raising his voice to prod me.

His impatience cut through my haze. I could feel the weight of everyone’s expectations pressing down on me, the cold seeping into my bones.

I took a step forward and choked out, “Shane, aren’t you cold?”

My voice trembled, barely more than a whisper. I wanted to say so much more, but the words stuck in my throat. Shane looked at me, surprised, as if he wasn’t sure I was talking to him at all.

Shane’s lashes trembled. His gaze flicked to the mug in my hand, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his face.

He looked away quickly, as if he couldn’t bear to meet my eyes. For a moment, I saw something raw and unguarded there—something that made me want to reach out and pull him close.

When he didn’t answer, I snatched the umbrella from Pete and struggled to hold it over Shane’s head, shielding him from the snow for a moment.

The umbrella wobbled in my grip, but I held it steady, determined to give him even a sliver of comfort. The gesture felt small, almost silly, but it was all I could think to do.

With my other hand, I offered the hot cocoa. “Shane… want some cocoa?”

The mug shook in my grasp, steam curling up into the cold air. I tried to smile, but my lips felt numb. Shane stared at me, his eyes unreadable, and for a moment I thought he might refuse.

Shane stared at me, his eyes dark and unreadable. Seeing I wouldn’t back down, he gave a self-mocking smile, took the mug, and poured the cocoa straight onto his own clothes. “There. Is Miss Monroe and Pete satisfied now?”

The cocoa splattered across his jacket, darkening the fabric. The crowd behind me gasped, some of them laughing, others just watching with wide eyes. Shane’s smile was brittle, but his hands didn’t shake.

“No, that’s not—” I started to explain, but Shane turned his head, closing his eyes. “Still not enough? Then what… what else do you want to do to humiliate me?”

His words hit like a slap. I opened my mouth to protest, but nothing came out. The guilt pressed down on me, heavy and relentless.

I froze, mouth open, unable to say a word.

The silence stretched between us, thick with regret. I wanted to reach for him, to tell him the truth, but I couldn’t find the words. All I could do was stand there, helpless.

I couldn’t blame him for misunderstanding. In the past… I really had wronged him.

Every memory stung like a fresh wound. I’d spent so long blaming Shane for things he couldn’t control, never stopping to see how much he’d suffered because of me.

I was the daughter of the Monroe family, with my dad and brother both holding positions on the city council.

We were the kind of family people whispered about at the grocery store, the kind whose names showed up in the paper whenever something important happened. I’d grown up with privilege, never realizing how much it set me apart from everyone else.

Even the mayor’s daughter had to show me some respect.

It was a weird kind of power, one I never asked for but couldn’t escape. People treated me like I was special, but mostly, it just made me feel lonely.

I’d been a top pick to be the mayor’s daughter-in-law, but at the annual garden party, I’d accidentally fallen into the lake and was saved by Shane, the mayor’s illegitimate son.

The memory was a blur of cold water and panic, Shane’s strong arms pulling me to safety. He’d been quiet, almost shy, as people crowded around us, whispering behind their hands.

For the sake of both the Monroe family and the mayor’s reputation, the mayor’s wife had no choice but to push for an engagement between us.

It was all about appearances—keeping up the illusion of a perfect family. I was just a pawn in their game, shuffled from one side of the board to the other.

The mayor’s son, my brother’s best friend, was the golden boy—polite, admired by every girl in Maple Heights.

He was the kind of guy people wrote songs about—handsome, smart, always saying the right thing. I loved him, but I hated how perfect he seemed, how easy everything came to him.

Shane was just the result of a one-night stand between the mayor and a waitress, his status lower than even the hired help.

People whispered about him in the grocery store, called him names behind his back. He never complained, but I could see the hurt in his eyes when he thought no one was looking.

Of course I didn’t want to marry him.

It wasn’t just about status—it was about fear. I didn’t know him, didn’t understand him, and I was terrified of what my life would look like if I did.

I sulked, faked being sick, and refused to go out, only writing a tearful letter to my brother.

I hid under my covers, scribbling out my fears on fancy stationery. It felt childish, but I didn’t know what else to do. My brother always fixed things for me, and I hoped he would again.

The next day, my brother sent Pete to check on me.

Pete showed up with a bag of snacks and a scowl, ready to take on the world for my sake. He’d always been my shield, even when I didn’t ask for it.

Pete looked even angrier than I was. “Does he even know his place? Trying to compete with your brother’s best friend for you?”

He paced my room, ranting about Shane’s audacity. I tried to calm him down, but Pete was like a hurricane—once he got going, there was no stopping him.

“Don’t worry, Lila, your brother said this engagement isn’t set in stone. If Shane acts up, it can still be called off. I’ll help you!”

He sounded so sure of himself, as if he could fix everything with a few harsh words. I wanted to believe him, but deep down, I knew it wasn’t that simple.

“Pete!” I muttered from under my covers. “After all, he did save me. If you hurt him, wouldn’t that make me ungrateful?”

I peeked out, hoping Pete would understand. But he just shook his head, stubborn as ever.

“You don’t get it, Lila. He didn’t save you out of kindness. Your brother said he’s just a low-born schemer, probably paid someone to push you in, then played the hero to force your folks to set up the marriage.”

The accusation made my stomach twist. I wanted to protest, but the words wouldn’t come. It was easier to let Pete believe the worst.

“Then… just don’t go overboard. Just find a chance to tell him I don’t want to marry him.”

It was a weak protest, but it was all I could manage. Pete just rolled his eyes, already plotting his next move.

But Pete wouldn’t listen.

He never did—not when it came to me. He saw himself as my protector, even when I didn’t need saving.

He was the mayor’s nephew. My brother’s cousin. Spoiled and headstrong since we were kids. Always fiercely protective.

We’d grown up together, chasing fireflies in the backyard, sneaking cookies from the kitchen. But somewhere along the way, Pete’s loyalty turned into something sharper, more dangerous.

I found out later that while I was recovering, Pete took it upon himself to publicly humiliate Shane several times in my name.

The stories trickled back to me—Pete picking fights in the school parking lot, spreading rumors, making sure everyone knew where I stood. I wanted to stop him, but by then, the damage was done.

It wasn’t until my brother and the mayor’s son both chewed him out that he finally reined it in.

Even Pete couldn’t stand up to them forever. After a few harsh words behind closed doors, he backed off—at least in public.

But after all that, everyone in town knew I didn’t want the marriage.

The whispers followed me everywhere—at the grocery store, at church, even in the halls at school. I felt exposed, like everyone was waiting for me to make a move.

Because of it, my brother even scolded me.

He pulled me aside one afternoon, voice tight with disappointment. “You have to think about the family, Lila. This isn’t just about you.” The words stung, but I knew he meant well.

Once I was better, my brother made me go thank Shane, and Pete insisted on coming along.

I dressed up in my nicest clothes, nerves jangling, and let Pete drive me across town. The air in the car was thick with tension, neither of us willing to break the silence.

I brought along half my trust fund—stocks, deeds to a few stores—hoping money would persuade him to break off the engagement.

The envelope felt heavy in my hands, a silent bribe I hoped would buy my freedom. I hated myself for it, but I didn’t see another way out.

But Shane was completely indifferent. Feeling humiliated, I couldn’t help but snap at him: “If you want to marry me, Shane, fix up your place first. I’m not going to live in a dump.”

The words came out harsher than I meant, but I couldn’t stop myself. Shane just looked at me, expression unreadable, and said nothing.

Pete even cursed him on the spot: “Who do you think you are? Don’t mistake kindness for weakness!”

His voice echoed in the tiny kitchen, sharp and unforgiving. Shane didn’t flinch—he just turned away, shoulders stiff.

“Pete!” I scolded, but the whole visit ended badly.

We left in silence. The air between us was colder than the winter wind outside.