Three Years Wasted I Married His Rival

In our mountain town we follow the courtship-marriage custom. Any woman who reaches twenty-three without a man coming to her door is driven out of the village, counted as a disgrace to her family.

I waited three years for Jason Cox.

The first year, he was in the city celebrating his childhood sweetheart's birthday, and the window for the courtship passed.

The second year, he was nearly at my door when she called him back, scared of the thunder in the middle of the night, and I waited out another night for nothing.

The third year, his sweetheart was getting married and he was too heartbroken to come. Not a word to me. He simply broke his promise again.

This year was the last year.

Jason swore to the heavens that he would come to my door before the courtship deadline.

There were only three hours left before this year's courtship window closed.

The sky had gone dark, and still there was no sign of him.

I panicked. I slipped out of the loft and went to find Jason and demand the truth.

But the moment I reached the local tavern in town, I heard him laughing with his friends.

"Jason, there's less than three hours left. Shouldn't you hurry over to Constance Glass's place for the courtship? If you miss the hour, you'll ruin Constance's whole life!"

Jason's voice drifted out from the courtyard, thick with drink.

"I'm doing it on purpose. Every year she nags me, and it grates on me. Especially last year, with Laurel's wedding tearing me up, and she still nagged. That's when I decided. This year I'm going to teach her a lesson."

"Jason, a woman past twenty-three with no one to propose gets driven out of town!"

"So I drive her out and then I bring her back. Nobody wants her, I pick her up off the ground, and after the wedding she'll treat me like the man who saved her life. She'll wait on me, sweet and obedient. That's how you break a woman in."

The branch I'd snatched up off the roadside bit raw into my palm.

I stumbled the whole way home and dropped to my knees in front of my parents.

"Dad, Mom, the man who's proposed three years running, I've said yes."

"…"

My mother froze for a moment.

The next second, tears slid down from the corners of her eyes.

She bent down, gripping my hands hard, her voice shaking.

"Good. Good. You've finally seen it. That Jason boy, nine parts of his heart belong to the Simmons girl, and only one part to you…"

She pulled me up with one hand and shoved at my father with the other.

"Go, quickly, there's still two hours, there's still time. Get to the city, sign the marriage contract, and take it to the old town chief."

The sun had just climbed up over the ridge when my father pushed the door open, out of breath.

He drew the contract from inside his coat, still warm, and pressed it into my hands.

"I've already told the old town chief. We made the final hour, just barely. The marriage is settled at last."

With trembling hands I lifted the bright red contract and slowly unfolded it.

By the custom of our town, the groom's name on the contract must be written in the gold powder the bride has prepared.

Three years ago, I spent every last bit of my own savings to prepare the gold powder for Jason.

What I'd been waiting for was this: that before I married, he would use the powder I'd prepared to write his name on the contract.

Now the groom's name was filled in, written in the very gold powder I had prepared.

But it was a stranger's name.

Roderick Sanchez, the only son of the richest family in the city. Three years ago he'd come to town on a sketching trip, got lost in the mountains, and I was the one who led him back out.

From that day on, the proposal invitations stacked up to a man's height every year.

I never answered them. I never even looked.

My heart was set on waiting for Jason.

But in the end he never came…

The thought of Jason stung at my nose, and tears welled up all at once.

"Constance, don't cry."

My father's rough, broad hand clasped my shoulder.

"No tears can fall on this contract. The Sanchez family are good people. The moment that Roderick boy saw the contract, he wrote his own name without a word."