Not His First Choice Chapter 03
The next day, after work, Ethan was waiting outside my office.
He had a huge bouquet of red roses in his arms, petals still beaded with water.
“Nora.”
He came over and pushed the flowers into my arms.
The bouquet was heavy. My arm sagged under it.
“Last night was my fault.”
He looked away, voice tight, like apologizing didn’t fit right in his mouth. “I put the points back. Tomorrow, I’ll take care of everything.”
I stood there holding the burning-red roses, watching the tips of his ears turn faintly pink.
He rarely apologized. Getting those words out was already his limit.
“Take care of what?”
He didn’t answer. He just reached out and wiped a raindrop off my cheek.
“You’ll see tomorrow. Just be ready.”
That look in his eyes—the one he only got when he was cooking up a surprise. Smug and soft at the same time.
He was going to propose.
Eight years. This was what I’d wanted most. But now that it was finally happening, all I could think about were the points, the ones he’d docked for Lily, over and over, until I couldn’t breathe.
“So after we get married—we still playing the points game?” I asked suddenly.
Ethan blinked, then smiled. “No. Once we’re married, what’s there to save?”
“And Lily?”
I watched him steadily. All those nights she’d taken from me, the dates she’d canceled, the points he’d stripped away—would marriage make those disappear?
Or would it just get a new name?
He opened his mouth to answer. His phone rang.
He picked up, and his voice shifted instantly. “Don’t stress. When have I ever stood you up? On my way.”
He hung up and turned to me. “Lily and I are doing track day. If I’m late, she’ll be pissed.”
“Ethan.”
“Are you always going to choose her?”
He stopped, back to me.
“Stop it. Grab an umbrella from the convenience store. It’s about to rain.”
He yanked the car door open. The engine roared.
The rain came, just like he said. Cold needles on my face.
I stood in the rain holding the roses.
The paper wrapping soaked through fast. Petals dropped, one by one.
I looked down and saw a card tucked inside the bouquet.
Gold cursive lettering, embossed on white:
“For my Lily—forever bright and lovely.”
These were Lily’s flowers.
His usual florist. Her name was the default note on file.
He’d ordered flowers for Lily hundreds of times.
He’d never once changed the note.
My phone buzzed.
Lily had sent a screenshot. My points dashboard.
She’d circled row after row of deductions.
【Nora, you really thought he was the one taking those points off? I logged into his account and did it myself.】
【Also, today he only came to make up because I told him to. Don’t read too much into it.】
Another message popped up.
【Sis, points aren’t the only gift I’ve got for you.】
I stared at the screen and doubled over laughing.
Eight years. I’d saved points, I’d bitten my tongue, I’d walked on eggshells around him. And she’d been the one taking them away.
The flowers. The card. Every last deduction.
Each one was telling me the same thing: the past eight years were a joke.
I dumped the bouquet, card and all, into the trash can on the corner.