Chapter 2: The Weight of No Turning Back

In Maple Heights, the air was so still you could hear a pin drop.

It was one of those late afternoons when the golden sun filtered in through the front windows, casting stripes on the hardwood. The vanilla-scented candle on the mantle was burning down to a stub, its smoke twirling lazily in the air, giving the room a hazy softness—but Grandma Carol's gaze cut through it sharp as ever.

She looked me up and down, her eyes narrowed as if she could size up every secret I ever tried to keep. The only sound was the faint ticking of the wall clock, punctuating her words:

“You’ve always been fond of Noah. Why aren’t you choosing him?”

I knelt on the hardwood floor for a long time, my voice low:

“Precisely because I’m fond of him, I can’t marry him.”

I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears. I swallowed, staring at the grain of the floor. "I don’t want to hurt myself, or waste away waiting with a broken heart for someone who’ll never come back. Please, Grandma, grant me this wish."

The floor was cold through my jeans, and I knelt there until my knees tingled, toes numb, feeling every second drag out.

At last, I heard Grandma Carol sigh, her tone softening:

“All right. Tomorrow, when I go to city hall, I’ll talk to the mayor and request your engagement.”

The tension melted a little, and I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding. I bowed my head, hands pressed together in my lap—a Turner family way of saying thank you without words. The vanilla candle sputtered, as if in approval.

In this life, I will not marry Noah Carter again.