Chapter 2

The wedding schedule covered everything from when the groom would arrive and the family ceremony to the seating chart and the bridesmaid and groomsman lineup.

Caleb Grant's name appeared only once.

Groom: Caleb Grant.

I stared at it for two seconds, picked up a pen, and crossed it out.

Beside it, I wrote another name.

Yale Shaw.

The scratch of the pen against the paper was barely audible, but somehow, the moment I finished writing his name, everything inside me went quiet.

It made me think of the day Caleb proposed to me.

We were having dinner at home when he slid a ring box across the table.

"We're about that age anyway," he said. "We might as well get married."

I sat there for a long moment before asking, "Is this supposed to be a proposal?"

He laughed.

"We're practically an old married couple already. Does it really matter?"

Back then, I'd pressed my lips together and told myself it didn't.

Grand gestures weren't important. Caleb was simply that kind of person. He wasn't passionate or romantic, and he wasn't the type to constantly talk about love.

So I ended up planning our entire wedding on my own, from the flowers and venue setup to my dress and even the suit Caleb would wear.

Then yesterday, I found the proposal video he'd kept all these years.

It was five hours long. Four hours showed Caleb painstakingly putting everything together himself. In the final hour, he excitedly showed Nina everything he'd prepared before getting down on one knee.

"Nina, I've been practicing what I'm about to say all night. I had the ring changed three times, and I'm still worried none of it is good enough.

"If you say yes, I'll spend the rest of my life with you.

"And if you say no, I still want you to be happy."

That was when I finally realized Caleb had once loved someone with that much earnestness, awkwardness, and care.

He would rehearse a proposal over and over because he wanted to get every word right. He had a ring altered three times because he was afraid it wasn't perfect enough.

Before Nina could even reject him, he'd already made sure she knew she could say no without feeling guilty.

The truth was, Caleb wasn't cold, and he didn't hate grand gestures.

He just didn't love me enough.

My phone buzzed then.

It was Caleb.

[Yvie, a few of the guys want to get dinner together tomorrow night before the wedding. Nina's coming too.]

Caleb picked me up the next evening.

When I got into the passenger seat, I noticed a box of mints in the center console.

Caleb had always known I hated mint, but he never let the mints in his car run out because Nina liked them.

Dinner was at a restaurant with a private dining room. By the time we arrived, everyone was already talking and laughing, with Nina sitting right in the middle of Caleb's friends.

The second she saw us, she got to her feet.

"Yvie, you're here."

She came over smiling and slipped her arm through mine with the same easy affection she always showed me as my best friend.

Caleb draped his jacket over the back of a chair and, without a second thought, took the seat beside Nina.

I sat across from them.

One of the guys immediately started teasing him. "Your bride's here, Caleb. Aren't you going to get her a drink?"

Caleb laughed. "Shut up."

Nina picked up the menu and told the server as naturally as if she'd done it a hundred times, "No cilantro in the fish. Caleb doesn't like it."

The server nodded.

My hand paused around my glass.

I'd been living with Caleb for six months before I found out he hated cilantro.

One night, I'd made beef with cilantro. He took a single bite and set down his fork.

"Don't you like it?" I'd asked.

"I don't eat cilantro."

Nina had never needed to ask.

One of Caleb's friends must have noticed my expression because he hurried to smooth things over.

"Don't take it the wrong way, Yvie. Nina's known Caleb forever. Of course she remembers little things like that."

Nina planted a hand on her hip and smacked him on the arm.

"Would you stop making it sound worse?"

Then she turned to me with a laugh.

"Yvie, seriously, don't worry about it. I'm just observant. I remember everyone's little quirks."