At my engagement dinner, I pushed both passes across the table to my sister.
I kept neither.
One was a VIP pass that granted access to the main hall.
The other was a plastic wristband that only got you into the side room to watch a livestream.
When my fiancé laid them out, he’d told me to choose.
I really did choose the VIP pass.
He took it from me at once and hung it around my sister’s neck with his own hands.
“She’s representing the young scholars. She has to be at the main table.”
“You like quiet,” he’d added, turning to me. “The wristband suits you better.”
I looked at my now-empty hand and suddenly found the whole thing ridiculous.
If the outcome was already decided, why ask me to choose at all?
Because they liked watching me reach for the better thing.
Then watching it be given to my sister.
And in the end, I was supposed to take the lesser option and say it was fine.
I’d been through that kind of choice too many times.
When we were kids, they put two summer camp brochures in front of us.
My sister chose Switzerland, so I had to stay at a camp nearby.
When it was time to apply to college, everyone encouraged her to aim for the best school she could get into.
The moment I mentioned my dream school, they persuaded me to choose a safer state university instead.
Even love had worked the same way.
My fiancé had always been close to my sister.
It was only after she left for Oxford that he started seeking me out.
When he proposed, he told me the past was over.
I believed him.
I even thought that getting engaged meant that, for once, I had finally been chosen without hesitation.
But here we were at my own engagement dinner, and he was still thinking first about where my sister should sit.
As for me, the fiancée, I was only fit to watch my own engagement party on a screen in the overflow room.
My sister held the VIP pass and said softly that she really needed it.
I didn’t fight her for it.
But I didn’t take the wristband the way I always had before.
I pushed both items toward her.
“You can have them both.”
“I’m not choosing anymore.”
Maybe they thought I was being mature again, stepping aside with grace.
Only I knew the truth.
What I shoved away this time wasn’t just two passes.
He Chose Her Over Me So I Chose Myself Chapter 23 He never made a ceremony of calling them gifts, and he never expected me to turn them into anything. He just set them quietly on the workbench and let me decide for myself. It was the same way he loved me. He never chose
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He Chose Her Over Me So I Chose Myself Chapter 22 Late that night, the studio’s heat began to fade. Eli took his coat off the rack, came over, and draped it around my shoulders, adjusting the collar for me. “You okay?” He didn’t ask what had been said on the phone, and he didn’t
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He Chose Her Over Me So I Chose Myself Chapter 21 The scissors came down, and the ribbon drifted from the doorway. My old roommate snatched the microphone and laughingly told the story of how, the first time Eli came to pick up a glass lampshade, he was so nervous he handed me his library
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He Chose Her Over Me So I Chose Myself Chapter 20 A year later, Eli and I officially opened the studio in Providence. Colored glass hung from the skylight, and the long tables were crowded with guests. We didn’t invite anyone from the Mercer family. Just before the ribbon-cutting, I received a text from an
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He Chose Her Over Me So I Chose Myself Chapter 19 “It’s not awful.” Eli’s voice was calm and steady. “Pulling yourself out of a toxic environment takes far more courage than staying and pretending everything’s fine. You weren’t running. You were saving yourself.” I stared at him, and slowly, my clenched fingers loosened. “After
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He Chose Her Over Me So I Chose Myself Chapter 18 “If you knew, then why did you still write those Find and Replace vows?” I stared at him, my voice clear. “What did you think my love was? A backup plan? A substitute? Or just a pass that let you stay by Camille’s side
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He Chose Her Over Me So I Chose Myself Chapter 17 Eli’s brother set up the ladder and hung a new glass wind chime by the window. Eli gently flicked the metal pieces. Blue-green glass knocked softly together, clear and bright. “This one’s a darker color. Is the light transmission going to be too low?”
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He Chose Her Over Me So I Chose Myself Chapter 16 “Go home, Camille.” I turned the grinder back on. “Go live your own life. I don’t want to compete with you anymore. I have glass here, and light. That’s enough.” She stared at me for a few seconds, then let out a cold laugh.
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He Chose Her Over Me So I Chose Myself Chapter 15 Grant’s lips moved, but in the end, he said nothing. His silence was answer enough. I didn’t wait for anything more. I turned, went back into the studio, and shut the door on them. The grinder began to spin. I picked up an unfinished
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He Chose Her Over Me So I Chose Myself Chapter 14 I didn’t look at Grant again. Instead, I turned to my adoptive parents. “In high school, one of my pieces won a state art gold medal. You didn’t come to see it. When you got home, all you said was that compared to Camille’s
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