Chapter 2
“What…what are you talking about, Evie?” Sierra’s voice trembled with sudden panic. “We’re best friends. How could I
“Friends share the good stuff, don’t they?” I cut her off lightly, my tone breezy but firm.
“Didn’t you always say you wanted a guy who’s ambitious, devoted to his family, and treats you right? Declan Price checks every box.”
“But–but he’s your blind date!” Sierra stammered.
“I turned him down.” I glanced at the bustling street, the world suddenly feeling brighter, sharper. “He’s a free man now.”
“You’ve got Mrs. Anderson’s number, right? Better move fast. A catch like him won’t stay single for long.”
I hung up before she could respond, picturing Sierra on the other end, her face a mix of shock and barely concealed glee.
In my previous timeline, she’d sung Declan’s praises to me endlessly, urging me to lock him down.
All so I’d clear the path for her, smoothing out the thorns until she could swoop in and reap the rewards of my hard work.
This time around, with my second chance, I’d let her have him.
Let’s see how she fares without my family’s money to bankroll his dreams, without my connections to pave his way, without my sacrifices to prop him up.
Good luck, Sierra, living that dream life with her precious “catch.”
Back home, Mom was perched on the couch, waiting. The second I walked in, she pounced. “So? How’d it go with that Professor Price?” Dad poked his head out of the study, curious but quiet.
Both my parents were blue–collar folks, traditional to the core, convinced a stable family was the ultimate goal for their daughter.
In my previous timeline, they’d been thrilled with Declan, the cultured professor who seemed like such a good match.
I sank onto the couch beside them, my voice steady. “Mom, Dad, I’m not into him.”
“What?” Mom’s face fell, disappointment etched in her frown. “Why not? Mrs. Anderson said-”
“He says his mom’s in poor health, always on meds,” I explained, stripping away Declan’s polished veneer of duty and devotion. “He’s got a younger brother in college, too, and he’s supporting them both on his salary.”
Mom’s expression shifted, her brows knitting together. “That’s… a lot of responsibility.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “And honestly, I’m not ready to settle down yet. Mom, Dad, I want to pick up my paintbrush again. I’m going to apply for the graduate program at Rhode Island School of Design.”
The words spilled out, heavy with a dream I’d buried for twenty years.
Ιπ
my previous timeline, I’d given up that application for Declan. He’d promised, with all the sincerity in the world, “Evie, once I’m settled, I’ll support you going back to school.”
But when he finally made it as a professor, his tune changed, “You’re almost forty. Why bother? Isn’t it better to just stay home?”
Dad listened quietly, then gave a slow nod. “Alright, Evie. If you want to apply, go for it. Don’t worry about things at home.” Dad was
always more open–minded than Mom. My eyes stung, and I nodded back Fraude swelling in my chest.
The next day, I was at the bookstore, flipping through titles to prep for my application, when Declan appeared out of nowhere, blocking my path
“Miss Hart,” he started, his voice earnest, “I know I’m being forward, but i want to try one more time.”
I closed the book in my hands, meeting his gaze. “Professor Price, I was clear about my answer.”
MoboPeels.
“I know,” he said, offering a bitter smile, a pleading edge to his voice. “But when my mom heard you weren’t interested, she couldn’t sleep. She got sick this morning.”
I bit back a cold laugh. In my previous timeline, I’d fallen for that sob story. I’d visited his sick mother, only to be cornered by his family, guilt–tripped into agreeing to the engagement. Not this time.
I looked him dead in the eye, my voice calm but razor–sharp.
“Professor Price, if your mother’s ill, take her to a hospital. Find a doctor. I’m just someone you met once. I’m not a physician, and I can’t cure her.”
