The sacrificial lamb didn’t get a choice.
I hadn’t asked to be born first.
Even if she didn’t forgive me, I vowed to spend the rest of my life making up for this.
I drifted to the potting shed, where fresh topsoil and compost permeated the air. I picked up a pot with the intention of filling it . . . then hurled the blasted thing against the wall.
The shattering ceramic didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered.
And I screamed.
I screamed until my throat grew sore and I had nothing left to give.
I screamed, and not one person came to my aid.
Empty and alone, I picked up the shattered pieces of pottery, accidentally cutting my palm against its sharp edge.
It should’ve hurt. But I felt nothing as I stared at the blood spilling onto my skirts.
Felt nothing as I grabbed my trowel and stood.
Felt nothing as I went back outside.
Felt nothing as I knelt next to one of the barren flower beds, stabbing the ground over and over and over.
My tears watered the seeds.
My broken heart seeped into the soil.
My hope flew away with the breeze.
This wasn’t my fault.
And yet I felt guilty.
Why? Because I’d been born a helpless woman whose only worth lay in her ability to make a good match? How was that my fault?
I wanted to do more. Wanted to be more. But any time I tried to stand on my own two feet, my father knocked my legs from beneath me.
Enough was enough. It was time for me to take control.
Consequences be damned. I would go straight to my father and refuse.
With my hands and skirts covered in dirt and blood, I raced toward the house to find my father still in his study, looking chuffed with himself, smiling down at the freshly signed betrothal contract on his desk.
“Father?” I closed the door and hurried to where he sat watching me through narrowing eyes. “I need to speak to you. It’s urgent.”
His clasped hands fell on top of the desk. “You need to change your dress before someone sees you.”
My dress? My life was over and he was concerned with my bloody dress?
Although I had never denied him outright before, I knew I had it in me. This wasn’t just about my own happiness, it was about Keelynn’s as well. I would do anything for her.
Anything.
You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.