Palma W
For the past ten years, all of Boston society had been guessing whether I would end up marrying Alexander Grant, Nathan Cole, or Julian Vale.
One of them took care of every problem that came my way. One remembered every allergy I had. One built me an observatory with a view of the whole city.
I never once doubted that I was loved. I had always been the spoiled little princess everyone doted on.
Then my mother found her older daughter, Vivian Ashford, who had been missing for twenty-two years.
Vivian was the one expected to marry into Black Harbor for the Ashford family. To make up for the life she had lost, the three men started asking me to give up a little at a time.
Alexander missed the fitting he had promised to come to, because Vivian needed the practice in front of the cameras more than I did.
Nathan canceled the follow-up on my old injury because Vivian had a panic attack when she heard about the medical exam before the wedding.
Julian booked the entire observatory to make up for my birthday, then, while I sat there alone until closing, sent me a text that read, "You're the sensible one. Go home by yourself tonight."
When I got back to the estate, I asked them why none of them had told me beforehand.
But Vivian cried and said she didn't want to be the reason they lost me.
So Alexander stepped in front of her, Nathan told me to stop upsetting her, and Julian said I shouldn't be using one broken promise to test whether they loved me.
As I turned to leave, I heard them making a pact in that room.
"Until the engagement is settled, no more coddling Evelyn."
"She'll be angry."
"She'll sulk for a few days and get over it. She could never bring herself to leave us for real."
They weren't wrong.
Back then, I really couldn't bring myself to leave.
What they didn't know was that I had already let go, and I was never coming back.