He Chose Her, The Desert Chose Me - Chapter 1: Chapter 1
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For ten years, I chased after the Prince of Birmingham's elite circle, pouring my heart and soul into him. A decade of unreturned devotion, and finally—finally—he agreed to marry me.
Then, just days before the wedding, he vanished without a word—gone to Dungeness with the woman he called his "first love," the one who'd waltzed back into his life out of nowhere.
When I found out, rage burned through me. I didn't think—I just moved. Blinded by fury and heartbreak, I chased him down, storming into the barren wasteland of Dungeness.
Then the so-called first love took a fall, slicing up her face. But instead of owning up to it, she spun the story, accusing me of pushing her. And the man I'd loved for ten years? The one I'd dreamed of building a life with?
He didn't even question her lies.
"You better pray nothing happens to Bella," he snarled, voice like ice, "or I won't spare you."
As if that wasn't enough, he added, "Stay here and think about what you've done. We'll talk about marriage later."
Then, without a second glance, he drove off with her, leaving me stranded in that godforsaken desert.
A month later, I crawled out of Dungeness—but the woman who emerged wasn't the same Lilly who'd gone in.
By the time I reached the rescue station, I was a ghost of myself—emaciated, shattered, barely alive. The second I spotted the makeshift aid tent, my legs gave out.
When I woke, Arthur Findley and Bella stood over me. His eyes were cold, not a flicker of concern.
"You actually survived," he said, voice dripping with contempt. "Why didn't you call for help? Did you think nearly dying would make me pity you?"
His words cut deep. Once, I might've crumpled into his arms, begging for comfort. But now? After what I'd endured in that hellscape? Nothing. Just hollow emptiness.
No one—least of all Arthur—knew the horrors of that month. Days scorching hot, sand burning my feet raw. Nights freezing, my body shaking as I curled between thorns and jagged rocks.
No food. No water. No shelter. I survived on insects, cactus roots, the bitter sap of poisonous plants. My skin was a map of cuts and gashes. I brushed against death more times than I could count.
Wild boars nearly gored me. A pack of wolves scared them off—pure luck. Scorpions, venomous cacti left me vomiting, delirious.
Yet I refused to die. Not for Arthur—but because I wouldn't let him be the reason I didn't make it.
Now, standing before him, his icy words and Bella's fake sympathy barely registered. She reached out, fingers grazing my cracked skin, her red lips twisting into a sickening smile.
"Oh, Lilly," she cooed, "why couldn't you just admit you were wrong? I've already forgiven you for ruining my face—why can't you let it go?"
Her voice oozed poison, but I felt nothing. I stared blankly, denying her the reaction she wanted. With a pout, she looped her arm through Arthur's, marking her territory right in front of me.
Then, just days before the wedding, he vanished without a word—gone to Dungeness with the woman he called his "first love," the one who'd waltzed back into his life out of nowhere.
When I found out, rage burned through me. I didn't think—I just moved. Blinded by fury and heartbreak, I chased him down, storming into the barren wasteland of Dungeness.
Then the so-called first love took a fall, slicing up her face. But instead of owning up to it, she spun the story, accusing me of pushing her. And the man I'd loved for ten years? The one I'd dreamed of building a life with?
He didn't even question her lies.
"You better pray nothing happens to Bella," he snarled, voice like ice, "or I won't spare you."
As if that wasn't enough, he added, "Stay here and think about what you've done. We'll talk about marriage later."
Then, without a second glance, he drove off with her, leaving me stranded in that godforsaken desert.
A month later, I crawled out of Dungeness—but the woman who emerged wasn't the same Lilly who'd gone in.
By the time I reached the rescue station, I was a ghost of myself—emaciated, shattered, barely alive. The second I spotted the makeshift aid tent, my legs gave out.
When I woke, Arthur Findley and Bella stood over me. His eyes were cold, not a flicker of concern.
"You actually survived," he said, voice dripping with contempt. "Why didn't you call for help? Did you think nearly dying would make me pity you?"
His words cut deep. Once, I might've crumpled into his arms, begging for comfort. But now? After what I'd endured in that hellscape? Nothing. Just hollow emptiness.
No one—least of all Arthur—knew the horrors of that month. Days scorching hot, sand burning my feet raw. Nights freezing, my body shaking as I curled between thorns and jagged rocks.
No food. No water. No shelter. I survived on insects, cactus roots, the bitter sap of poisonous plants. My skin was a map of cuts and gashes. I brushed against death more times than I could count.
Wild boars nearly gored me. A pack of wolves scared them off—pure luck. Scorpions, venomous cacti left me vomiting, delirious.
Yet I refused to die. Not for Arthur—but because I wouldn't let him be the reason I didn't make it.
Now, standing before him, his icy words and Bella's fake sympathy barely registered. She reached out, fingers grazing my cracked skin, her red lips twisting into a sickening smile.
"Oh, Lilly," she cooed, "why couldn't you just admit you were wrong? I've already forgiven you for ruining my face—why can't you let it go?"
Her voice oozed poison, but I felt nothing. I stared blankly, denying her the reaction she wanted. With a pout, she looped her arm through Arthur's, marking her territory right in front of me.
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