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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 4

I stared at that message for a long time. Then I laughed.

Sarah couldn't be too upset. But what about me?

Julius came home after midnight.

No trace of alcohol on him. Just the faint scent of kapok blossoms.

“You're still up?” he asked quietly.

“Julius,”

I said his name like it was the last time I ever would.

“Do you remember the first bouquet you gave me?”

He went quiet for a moment.

“I do.”

“Gardenias. Because of my name.”

“The florist said they were sold out. Told you to settle for red roses instead.”

“You said no. Then you ran three blocks to find another shop and bought them anyway.”

I walked him through the memory, piece by piece.

"But this time, you told me the shop only had gardenias left. That I should just settle.”

His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

I understood him, really. He wanted to make up for old regrets with Sarah so he could come back to us with a clear conscience.

He assumed I'd always be right here, waiting.

But I was done waiting.

I looked him in the eye and said it word by word.

“Let's break up, Julius.”

“You want to break up with me?”

Irritation crept into his voice.

“Over a bouquet of flowers?”

I lowered my head and laughed. At him, for still not seeing it. At his arrogance.

I stood up and kept my voice level.

“I'm going to bed.”

“You should get some rest too.”

The next morning, I was jolted awake by a barrage of calls from Roderick.

“Alma, I need you. It's an emergency.”

He explained that the reporter assigned to cover a story at a construction site on the outskirts of town had come down with food poisoning. No one else was available, so they were pulling me in despite my imminent departure.

I threw on clothes, splashed water on my face, and rushed to the scene.

The construction site was packed, workers blocking every entrance. Only then did I realize what this assignment was: a wage-theft protest.

Bad luck must have been following me. During the commotion, a bottle came flying out of nowhere and cracked against my skull.

Glass. Blood poured down my face immediately.

I was still conscious when the ambulance brought me in. On the stretch from the hospital entrance to the ER, I saw someone I never expected.

Julius. With Sarah on his arm.

He brushed right past my gurney.

“You just came out here with me without telling anyone?”

“No. I didn't need to.”

The hand I'd been about to reach out to him pulled back. His name died in my throat.

Then everything went black from the blood loss.

When I woke up, there were less than twelve hours before my flight.

The only new message on my phone was from Julius.

【Not coming home tonight.】

I didn't reply.

My head was still heavy and throbbing, but I grabbed my suitcase and boarded the plane.

At the same time, Julius was at the airport seeing Sarah off.

“Will you come back?”

His voice was calm, as though some unfinished chapter had finally closed.

“If I get the chance, yes.”

Sarah smiled and nodded.

“Don't forget to tell Alma to touch up my interview photos!”

She waved goodbye from the security checkpoint entrance.

Julius watched her disappear, then dialed Alma's number.

No answer. He smiled to himself, a little helpless. She was probably sulking because he'd been neglecting her lately.

A hand tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned. It was Roderick, Alma's assistant.

“Julius, are you here to see Alma off too?”

“See her off for what?”

Something was slipping out of his control. Panic surged from somewhere deep in his chest.

“Alma accepted the overseas correspondent assignment.”

Roderick's voice carried a note of confusion.

“Weren't you two about to get married? Why would she leave now?”

Julius grabbed Roderick's shoulder, his voice tight with urgency.

“What's the flight number!”

“MU5013. She didn't tell you?”

The roar of an engine tore past overhead, and Julius's gaze snapped to the window.

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