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I Was Never His First Choice,So I Became Someone Else's Only Novel Cover

I Was Never His First Choice,So I Became Someone Else's Only

On Valentine's Day, a woman dumps her handwritten wedding invitations into the trash, finally choosing to end years of settling for less. While her boyfriend, Julius Henson, sends a cold text claiming he is working late, he is actually busy declaring his love to his former flame, Sarah Harding, under a sky of heart-shaped fireworks. From mismatched schedules to receiving wilted, leftover flowers with a message to "make do," she realizes she is done playing second choice and decides to walk away.
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Chapter 2

I couldn't sleep.

The bedroom door was ajar, and I could see him sitting on the bed, the faint glow of his phone screen illuminating his face.

He was texting someone on the other end, smiling wide.

Two months ago, he'd gone out for a business dinner and drunk himself into the hospital. I stayed by his side the entire night.

When he woke up, the only thing I got was a “Why is it you who's here?”

I sent my boss at the station a message accepting the overseas assignment.

【You sure you don't want to reconsider? Your wedding's right around the corner.】

【I'm sure. A career matters more than a wedding.】

I typed my reply to her question, compressing every ounce of heartache into a joke.

She told me there was one last interview I needed to do before I left.

I opened the interviewee's profile page, and the name “Sarah Harding” stared back at me.

Fate, it seemed, had a sense of humor I didn't appreciate.

The next day was Saturday. Julius was out the door early.

He said something had come up at the office.

But he'd dressed carefully, his hair styled neat, and he'd put on cologne.

The scent was light with a trace of sweetness. Kapok blossom.

My phone buzzed.

A text from Julius.

【Won't be back for lunch. Ordered you some herbal soup for your stomach.】

【Okay, thanks.】

My stomach issues were last month's problem. I didn't bother correcting him.

Then I made another call.

“Roderick James, that interview subject the station assigned me, Sarah Harding. Send me her contact info.”

I said,

“I want to set up a chat with her.”

After I hung up, I walked back to the bedroom.

My mind drifted to an autumn evening three years ago. I'd gone deep into a rural village to investigate a trafficking ring when the locals caught on and cornered me in a pig pen.

I was crouched in the corner, covered in filth and mud, my face bruised where they'd hit me.

The villagers stood outside with hoes and carrying poles, hurling threats and slurs.

My camera was smashed. My phone had no signal. I genuinely believed I was going to die there.

Then Julius came.

He charged through the crowd with a shovel in his hands, like a man with nothing left to lose.

Later, I asked him how he'd found me.

【I couldn't get through to your phone. I checked your location and followed it all the way here.】

I asked him if he'd been scared. What if he couldn't fight them off? We both would have died there, and no one would have ever known.

【I was scared. But I was more scared of not reaching you in time.】

When he said those words, the way he looked at me was fierce with love, so bright it burned through every last shred of fear I'd been carrying.

But last night, when he looked at me, his eyes were cold.

All that blazing love seemed to have vanished in the weeks since Sarah Harding came back to the country.

Or maybe it hadn't vanished at all. Maybe it had simply been transferred, every last drop, to her.

I picked up my phone and, through the contact Roderick forwarded, added Sarah Harding on WhatsApp.

Her profile picture was a kapok blossom. Julius had recently changed his to the same thing.

Her latest post on social media was from an hour ago.

The photo showed two people's shadows, close together, hands overlapping. The caption read:

【Revisiting old places with the one who got away.】

Underneath was Julius's reply.

【This time, I won't let you slip away again.】

I stared at that photo for a long time. Long enough that my eyes began to sting, and the tears came before I could stop them.

I was a social news reporter. I'd seen every kind of photograph that could break a person's heart.

But this was the only one that made me cry the moment I saw it.

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