Chapter 1

The town was holding the Blossom Rite, a matchmaking festival meant to help unmarried men and women find each other.

I had never wanted to take part. But my fiancé, Jason, had secretly signed me up, then handed me off with his own hands to the town's so-called "unlucky bastard"—Caleb Porter, a man who had already buried three fiancées.

Or so I thought. Until I overheard the conversation between my brother, my childhood friend Ryan, and Jason.

"Jason, you didn't catch Elena's flowers. You went for Chloe's. By the rules of the Blossom Rite, you have to marry Chloe. What about Elena?"

"It's fine." Jason sounded utterly casual. "Chloe was my first love. I just want to marry her once, according to the local custom. Relax—it's only pretend. When we get back to D.C., Elena and I will have the real wedding."

"Won't Elena be angry?"

"What would she have to be angry about?" Jason's voice was full of confidence. "Trust me. Elena can't live without me. She won't get mad."

I gave a small, bitter laugh.

Well—if this was the match Flora had blessed, so be it.

...

The walk home was short.

When I pushed the door open, the smell of something baking drifted out of the kitchen.

My brother Nathan was the first to come over, dropping his voice.

"Well? You went to the mayor to call off the engagement—what did he say?"

My parents looked up too.

I hung my coat on the hook by the door.

"He didn't say much."

My father set his coffee cup down with a sharp clack.

"Rules are rules. If you break off the engagement, your name gets struck from the Registry."

"You—look at yourself. Eight years with Jason, and you still manage to screw something like this up?"

I said nothing.

After all these years, I was used to it.

He didn't need to spell it out. Everyone in town knew what it meant to be struck from the Registry — losing your share of the vineyard, your inheritance rights, your very name in the community. A kind of social death. And in his eyes, I'd brought it on myself.

Whenever anything happened, he only ever blamed me. He never took my side, never felt slighted on my behalf.

Probably because Chloe was the daughter of the woman he'd never gotten over.

Anything to do with the Whitmans, he took their side—shamelessly, righteously.

Even though this time, none of it was my fault.

My mother opened her mouth, then closed it again, and pushed a bowl of hot soup toward me instead.

She had always been meek—whatever my father and brother said, she followed.

I knew better than to hope she'd speak up for me.

As long as she was safe and well, that was enough.

It didn't really matter who I married.

...

I had just sat down when the doorbell rang.

My brother answered it. Jason and Ryan walked in shoulder to shoulder.

Chloe trailed in behind them.

The moment she crossed the threshold, she called out in a sweet, bright voice, "Uncle, I've come to mooch a meal!"

My father grinned from ear to ear, waving his hands and repeating, "Sit, sit."

He pulled out a chair for her himself.

They had just come back from the ceremony at the old church.

Chloe's bouquet had landed neatly in Jason's arms.

By the rules of the town, the two of them were now "matched by heaven."

Chloe took the seat beside Jason.

Jason served her a piece of BBQ ribs first, then—as if remembering something—dropped a spoonful of vegetables onto my plate.

"Elena, eat something."

I looked down.

Brussels sprouts. The one thing I'd hated since I was a kid.

He'd caught his first love's flowers. Was he so pleased with himself that he'd forgotten even this?

At the table, my brother started to needle.

"Say, don't you all think Caleb Porter has a nerve, showing up at the Blossom Rite? Even if a girl gets crossed off the Registry, no one in her right mind would marry him."

Ryan chimed in. "Right? He's been on the west side of town less than three months. Doesn't even have his name in the town record yet. And I heard he's already killed three fiancées—"

My father took a sip of coffee.

"The rules of the town are perfectly clear. Whoever catches the flowers, marries. Today was a bit of an accident, but Jason—you two can't break the engagement."

"Chloe and her mother have had it hard enough. She can't be crossed off the Registry. The town's business gets settled first."

My mother said anxiously, "Then what about Elena—"

"Whose fault is that?" my father cut in sternly. "No one wanted this."

"It's just how the town does things. Jason and Elena can go get married in D.C. later. This local nonsense won't get in the way."

My mother's eyes reddened. She lowered her head and picked at her food.

I was about to tell her not to worry about it when Jason took my hand, patient enough as he explained,

"Elena, none of us wanted this. Three bouquets came down all at once. It was chaos."

"I never expected to catch Chloe's."

"When things settle down here, we'll go back to the city and get the marriage license. Nobody's going to remember some bouquet toss in a little town, all right?"

I took a sip of soup and nodded. "Mm."

He blinked, caught off guard.

I rarely agreed with him so easily.

Usually I'd make a fuss, sulk a while, wait for him to coax me back around.

But after that beat of surprise, he let go of my hand almost immediately—as though something heavy had just slid off his shoulders.

"So, Chloe, what about you?"

Chloe's cheeks went pink at once.

"My mom insisted I take part in the Blossom Rite—I couldn't get out of it. Thank goodness it was Jason who caught it. At least he's someone I know."

"I'll do whatever you all decide."

...

They fell into an animated discussion about how to make the wedding grand, which bluegrass band to hire.

As though this had been the plan all along.

I finished my meal quietly and set down my fork. "You all keep talking. I'm full."

The chair legs scraped against the floor. The table went quiet.

As I walked out, I heard Chloe ask softly,

"Is Elena upset?"

Jason soothed her patiently. "Don't overthink it. Elena isn't the sensitive type. Probably just tired out from the Blossom Rite today."

My steps faltered a moment.

So "tired" was such a useful word.

It could explain away every grievance, block every question, put everyone at ease...

Never mind. I was about to marry someone else anyway.