The Second Time You Chose Her

“Let Evelyn choose first. She needs a powerful husband to protect her more than I do.”

Celeste glanced at Julian as she spoke. He took her hand beneath the table, apparently unconcerned that everyone could see.

My father looked at me.

“Adrian Vale or Julian Crest. Which one do you want to marry?”

“Julian.”

Celeste’s smile disappeared. Before she could speak, my father stood and slapped me.

“You know he loves your sister!”

I pressed my tongue against the cut inside my cheek.

“Then why ask me to choose?”

“Celeste was considerate enough to let you speak first. How could you use that to take the man she loves?”

“You should have announced the engagements. It would have saved us all some time.”

He raised his hand again, but Celeste stepped between us.

“Dad, please. I offered to let her choose.”

She turned toward me.

“I always thought you wanted Adrian. If you had feelings for Julian, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, now you know.”

Across the room, Adrian gripped the armrest of his wheelchair.

In my first life, I had chosen him. I had spent five years helping him dress, accompanying him to treatment, and working to pay for rehabilitation his family supposedly refused to fund.

Then, when the SUV came toward Celeste, he had stood without assistance and pushed me into its path.

I could still remember his hands on my shoulders.

Julian interrupted before the memory could carry me further.

“Evelyn, both people have to agree to a marriage.”

“Then you can refuse. You asked for my choice, and I gave it to you.”

My father pointed at me.

“Hart Group needs both alliances. You don’t get to destroy our plans because you’re jealous of your sister.”

Since my mother’s death, Celeste had represented the family at receptions while I worked through the investments my father needed someone to salvage. Now he expected me to accept the marriage she had refused.

“Adrian will have professional caregivers,” he continued. “You’ll want for nothing as his wife.”

“We need to reconsider that arrangement.”

Adrian placed both feet on the floor and rose from his wheelchair.

My father stopped speaking.

Adrian walked to the table without help. Celeste watched him cross the room, her hand slipping out of Julian’s.

“You can walk?” my father asked.

“I’ve recovered.”

He picked up the financing documents.

“Hart Group needs fifty million dollars before next month. Vale Industries is prepared to provide it.”

My father glanced at the wheelchair, then back at him.

“What are your terms?”

“I want to marry Celeste.”

For five years, I had watched him struggle through exercises that exhausted me more than they seemed to exhaust him. I had learned how to help him into bed without hurting him, how to fold his wheelchair, how to fit another appointment around my work.

Now he stood in front of us because he wanted my sister.

“Adrian,” Celeste said, “why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted you to hear it from me.”

He looked at my swollen cheek.

“Evelyn, nothing has been finalized. We can still change the arrangement.”

His recovery, his sudden proposal, the way he avoided my eyes afterward: I began to suspect that he remembered our marriage, too.

“So you’re certain you want Celeste?”

“Yes.”

“And your parents?”

“I’ll speak to them.”

I pushed the Vale marriage proposal toward my sister.

“Then I hope you get what you want.”

Adrian watched my hand withdraw from the folder. My father had already turned to the financing offer.

“When can the money arrive?”

“As soon as the review and agreements are complete.”

“And the medical center project?”

“Hart Construction can submit its proposal.”

My father nodded, the slap apparently forgotten.

“Celeste and Adrian have known each other for years. It’s an excellent match.”

Celeste looked toward Julian.

“But what about…”

“Our partnership with the Crests will continue,” my father said. “Evelyn will marry Julian.”

Julian stood so abruptly that his chair scraped the floor.

“I never agreed to that.”

“I’ll discuss the terms with your father.”

“You can discuss business with him. I decide whom I marry.”

My father looked at Celeste, expecting her to fix it. She approached Julian with the Vale proposal still in her hand.

“We all have to consider our families. Evelyn chose you. You should at least give her a chance.”

He stared at her.

“You want me to marry her?”

“I want everyone to be happy.”

Julian studied her for a moment, then turned to me.

“Listen carefully, Evelyn. I don’t care how much money, property, or influence your family offers. I will never marry you.”