Chapter 3: Tea, Tension, and Old Flames

Because of Mariah’s incident, I needed to lay low for a while, so my family postponed any setups for me. But before I could even catch my breath, someone came by, inviting me to Riverside Tower to watch the tide.

Riverside Tower was the tallest building in town, with a view that stretched all the way to the hills. People went there for new beginnings. I just wanted to get away from old ghosts.

My mother agreed on my behalf. "Nathan Carter is good-looking, talented, and absolutely devoted to you. You should give him a real chance."

She fussed over my hair, straightening my dress, hope shining in her eyes. Nathan was always her pick—a good family, steady job, bright future.

It took me a while to recall who he was. In my past life, Nathan Carter was my mother’s top pick for a son-in-law, and he and I had much in common. If it weren’t for Mariah, maybe we would have...

I tried to picture a life with Nathan—quiet dinners, laughter in the kitchen, the comfort of being truly seen. It was a dream I’d never dared believe in.

"What are you thinking about?" He waved a hand in front of my face.

Nathan’s eyes crinkled with amusement, his voice warm and familiar. I relaxed, just a bit.

"Who would’ve thought the view from the top of Riverside Tower would be this beautiful?" I pointed out the window, trying to hide my nerves. The river shimmered in the distance, a ribbon of silver cutting through the dusk.

Nathan chuckled, "Is this your first time up here, Em?" The nickname threw me.

I was startled. Em? Were we really that close? He leaned in, voice low.

"Guess I’ll have to show you around more often." Before I could answer, he went on.

"This is a once-a-year event. Lots of people fight to reserve a private room here. I pulled some strings so we could watch together."

He was trying hard to impress me.

I changed the subject, pointing at the crowd. "They’re about to announce the results. Let’s have a look."

I forced a smile, trying to keep things light. The crowd’s laughter drifted up from the plaza, a welcome distraction.

Earlier, everyone had been joking around, voting for the most handsome guy in Maple Heights. Nathan hesitated, then asked, "Do you have a favorite, Em?" like my answer really mattered.

I froze again. In my previous life, I’d lived to a ripe old age and met hundreds—if not thousands—of people. How was I supposed to remember who was hot back then?

I racked my brain, coming up empty. I had to say something—fast.

A flash of inspiration hit me, and I answered, "Nathan Carter’s not bad."

His eyes widened, a slow smile spreading across his face. For a second, he looked like a hopeful kid.

As soon as I said it, Nathan’s cheeks flushed bright red, though he tried to stay composed. "Better than the first-place winner?" He nudged me, but I could see he meant it.

"Of course," I replied, smiling, trying to play along.

But my smile froze after only a moment, because standing just a few steps away at the door of the next private room was Harrison Whitmore, face cold as ever.

The sight of Harrison sent a jolt through me. He stood with his arms crossed, eyes scanning the room. The room went cold the second he walked in.

Nathan saw him too and hurried over to say hello. "What a coincidence, Harrison. When did you get here? Why not join us for some tea?" He gestured to the empty seat, trying to break the ice.

"I’ve been next door. Got here before you did," Harrison said calmly, shooting me a blank look. "You two seemed to be enjoying your conversation, so I didn’t want to intrude."

His words were polite, but his eyes lingered on me a little too long. I blushed, not sure where to look.

Nathan, flustered, waved his hands, trying to lighten the mood, but it didn’t work.

Harrison gave a faint smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "You flatter me, Nathan. I’m hardly worthy." His voice was cool, every word careful.

His words were vague, clearly with a double meaning. Even a kid could tell he was pissed.

The silence that followed was heavy, awkward. I shifted, wishing I could disappear.

The atmosphere grew tense. I stood quietly to the side, hardly daring to breathe. Only after he left did I breathe again.

As soon as the door closed behind him, the air seemed to lighten. I finally exhaled.

Wait. I’m single. I haven’t done anything wrong.

I shook my head, annoyed at myself. Old habits, I guess. But this time, I owed Harrison nothing.

I tried to focus on the view, the music, the chatter around me—but my thoughts kept drifting back to Harrison’s stare.

After watching the tide and the performances, I returned home, the night still buzzing in my head.

She practically tripped over her words, eyes shining with gossip. I braced myself. This was going to be big.

"Miss, the Whitmores—they’ve come to propose marriage!" Her voice squeaked down the hall.

Everyone was thrilled—except me.

My mother hugged me tight, my father beamed with pride, and even the maids exchanged excited whispers. I stood there, numb.

"Why me?"

The question slipped out before I could stop it. Their expectations weighed me down.

In the parlor, Mrs. Whitmore smiled as she took my hand, her pearls catching the light.

"Silly girl, of course it’s because you’re smart, kind, and put-together."

She squeezed my hand, her voice full of affection. "Any guy would be lucky to have you."

She said that coming to propose was Harrison’s own idea. "I always worried he’d never settle down, but it turns out he’s just quiet about things."

Ignoring my parents’ warning looks, I asked, "Did Harrison say anything about me?"

My mother shot me a look, but I pressed on. I had to know.

"Oh, absolutely!"

The room brightened as one of the Whitmore attendants stepped forward, always popping up when you least expect it.

He grinned, launching into a list of my supposed virtues. I looked around, half-expecting someone to laugh.

So that’s how it was. Harrison thought I was steady and capable, fit to be his wife and manage the household. I’d make the family look good.

I tried to process it all, my mind spinning. I was everything on paper, but not in his heart.

Her words echoed, sharp and bitter.

That one hurt.

A lump formed in my throat, unexpected and unwelcome. I wanted a life I chose, not one handed to me.

In my last life, guilt and shame made me work myself to the bone in the Whitmore household. I kept my head down. Never opened my heart.

I remembered all the nights spent alone in the big house, the endless lists of tasks, the way I measured my worth in chores completed and mistakes avoided. I never let myself want more.

It’s only natural to want to be loved. This time around, I just want to find someone who truly cares for me, to know what it’s like to be loved for real.

I closed my eyes, letting the wish settle in my heart. This time, I wasn’t going to settle.

With that thought, I took a deep breath and said firmly, "Please tell Harrison that I’m not as good as he thinks. I can’t accept his offer."

My voice was steady, but my hands trembled. I braced myself for the fallout, determined not to back down.

Everyone in the room frowned in silence. After a long pause, Mrs. Whitmore spoke.

She looked at me, surprise and disappointment flickering across her face. The room went cold.

"So, you’re saying…"

She trailed off, searching my face for any sign of doubt. I didn’t flinch.

I smiled politely. "Thank you for your kindness. But I’m not getting married."

I straightened my shoulders, feeling lighter than I had in years. For once, I was in charge.