Chapter 2: Nothing Left to LoseHis Promise Was Never Mine

Lily's eyes turned red with anger and panic.

"Julia," she said, her voice trembling, "after everything he has done, are you still determined to marry him?"

I thought of the answer I had received over the phone the night before.

Then, I said, word by word, "Yes. I am getting married."

…

By noon, the news had spread through all of Silver Hollow.

Everyone had heard that I was willing to marry Logan even without the full set of bridal silver.

That evening, Logan's mother came to my house.

She looked me up and down with open contempt, though triumph gleamed in her eyes. "Julia, since you do not want the silver crown, the rest of the pieces no longer make a complete set. I will take them back for now and give them to you later."

With a wave of her hand, the people she had brought stepped forward and began removing every piece of silver from the table.

Lily's face flushed with rage. She rushed forward to stop them.

"Why should you take them back?" she shouted. "Those were promised to my sister!"

I reached out and held her back.

"Let them take everything," I said calmly.

Logan's mother paused, clearly surprised that I gave in so easily.

A moment later, her smile grew even smugger.

"You are not young anymore," she mocked. "Who knows whether you can still give my son children? How about this? As for the 80,000 we agreed to give as wedding money, we will pay it after you marry into our family and give birth to a son."

I looked quietly at her sharp, cruel face.

Suddenly, I remembered the winter before, when she had slipped, broken her leg, and needed a rare mountain herb to recover. I had climbed the cliffs in a snowstorm and searched for an entire day and night before I finally found it.

Back then, she had held my frostbitten hands with tears in her eyes. "Julia, when you marry into our family, I will treat you like my own daughter."

I had believed her.

For a long time, I had even been moved by it.

Now, when I thought about it, I realized she had probably said words like that to me countless times.

During the fall harvest, she had needed someone to help cut wheat. She called me family, and I worked for three straight days without complaint.

When their house was being renovated, she told me it would be my future bridal home. Like a fool, I paid 30,000 of my own money to help with the repairs.

Even during the spring cleaning festival, she called me over to scrub the house, saying I should get used to my future home in advance.

But Abbie was treated differently.

Whenever Abbie came over, even if she arrived empty-handed, Logan's mother would bring out the best pastries and snacks.

As for me, if I took one extra bite at the dinner table, I would be mocked, openly or otherwise.

There were times when I felt hurt and wronged, and each time I went to Logan and poured my heart out.

Yet all he ever said was, "My mom treats you like family. That is why she does not bother being polite with you."

With that one sentence, he pushed all my pain and resentment back down my throat. And like a fool, I believed him.

For years, I mistook exploitation for closeness and disrespect for affection.

When my thoughts finally returned to the present, I looked at Logan's mother and spoke calmly. "The wedding money, the silver pieces, all of it. Do whatever you want with them. I do not care."

After all, I was not marrying into her family.

Her face lit up at once.

"Hurry," she called to her relatives. "Move everything out. Take it all back."

One wooden tray after another was carried away. The soft ringing of the silver bells grew fainter and fainter until it disappeared completely.

Lily stood in the doorway, tears falling down her cheeks.

"Julia," she whispered, "you have nothing left."

I wiped her tears away and asked, "Who said that? Everything other brides have, I will have too."

…

That night, I sat beneath the lamp and altered the groom's wedding suit.

The original groom's suit had been made to Logan's measurements, but the man who would actually wear it was taller, broader through the shoulders, and built nothing like him.

The size was completely wrong, so I took the fabric apart, piece by piece, and began sewing it again.

The sewing machine clicked steadily in the quiet room. Before I knew it, my eyelids grew heavy.

Then something cold touched my cheek.

I jolted awake.

When I opened my eyes, I saw Abbie standing in front of me with a paintbrush in her hand. The bristles were soaked in purple gromwell flower dye.

She was laughing so hard that she nearly bent over.

"Logan, look at her," she said. "Does she not look like a pig?"

My heart tightened.

I grabbed the mirror beside me and lifted it to my face.

A crooked pig's head had been painted across half of my cheek.

Everyone in Silver Hollow knew that dye made from purple gromwell flowers lasted for days. Once it stained the skin, it would not fade for at least three days.

Worse still, my wedding was the day after tomorrow.

Rage ignited in my chest. I shot to my feet and slapped Abbie across the face.

The sound rang sharply through the room.

Abbie covered her cheek and froze.

Logan rushed over and shoved me away.

I stumbled backward and slammed into the corner of the table. Pain shot through my lower back.

Logan stood in front of Abbie and glared at me. "Abbie was only joking," he snapped. "Was there any need to hit her?"

My voice shook. "A joke? Then, why did she not draw it on her own face?"

Abbie rolled her eyes and lifted her chin. "Fine. I will draw it on myself. Unlike some women, I do not make a huge scene over nothing."

She said the words boldly, but the brush in her hand did not move.

I stepped closer and challenged her, "Go on. You sounded so brave a second ago."

Then, I reached for her wrist.

Before I could grab her, Logan knocked the brush out of Abbie's hand and turned on me.

"That is enough," he said sharply. "It is just a small thing. Why do you have to keep making trouble? After you marry into my family, you will have to get along with Abbie. You should learn to be more generous instead of always stirring up problems."

I caught the strange meaning in his words and froze for a moment. "What do you mean by that?"