He Chose Her, The Desert Chose Me - Chapter 2: Chapter 2
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"Arthur, just look at her. Lilly's as stubborn as ever. Even now, she won't admit she was wrong," Bella said, her lips curling into a sly smirk.
"Forget it," she added with a dramatic sigh. "She's always been this way. Push her any harder, and she might pull another one of her little 'suicide stunts.'"
Arthur's temper, barely contained until now, finally snapped. His jaw tightened, a vein pulsing at his temple as he exploded.
"Do you think this is some kind of joke?" he roared. "If I hadn't found that specialist to fix Bella's forehead, I would never have forgiven you! And let's not forget—you're the reason we had to postpone our wedding. You will take responsibility for this!"
My gaze flicked to Bella's forehead—smooth, flawless. But I remembered the truth. She'd tripped on a sand dune, barely scraping her skin on a rock. A tiny cut. Yet she'd screamed like I'd pushed her, wailing about being disfigured, concussed, dying—right in the middle of Dungeness. And Arthur? He hadn't hesitated. He'd scooped her up, rushed her to the hospital, and left me there alone.
I couldn't believe it. Part of me knew he had to see through her act. But he still chose her.
Now, facing his fury, I felt nothing. No anger, no desperation. Just calm.
"Fine," I said evenly. "I'll take responsibility."
He froze, stunned. Silence stretched between us.
Because the old me would have fought. A month ago, I'd have screamed, raged, clawed for his attention. If he so much as glanced at another woman, I'd throw a fit. When he abandoned me for Bella, I'd have lost my mind.
But now? I stood there, unmoved.
His confidence wavered. He looked away, unnerved.
And I smiled to myself.
Arthur, I won't marry you.
Because the woman who survived a month in Dungeness didn't walk out alone. She made a deal.
And the woman standing before you now? She's not the same Lilly.
Arthur had always liked my possessiveness. For ten years, he let me cling to him, chase off every noblewoman in the capital with my sharp tongue and sharper glare. He'd laugh, call them "rotten peach blossoms," and tell me I was the only one meant to stand by his side.
A year ago, we got engaged. The wedding was two weeks away.
Then Bella came back.
His long-lost first love, returning from abroad like some tragic heroine. And from the moment she stepped off that plane, everything changed.
That same night, Arthur personally picked her up from the airport. Threw her a welcome banquet—forgetting he'd promised to spend my birthday with me.
Worse? After the party, he didn't come home. First time in ten years. The next morning, he swore he'd slept on her sofa—that she'd had too much to drink, and he was just being responsible.
I told myself not to overthink it. The wedding was so close.
Then, three days later, Arthur left for work.
Thirty minutes after that, Bella posted a photo.
No warning. No explanation.
Just Arthur, smiling beside her on a flight to Kent.
"Forget it," she added with a dramatic sigh. "She's always been this way. Push her any harder, and she might pull another one of her little 'suicide stunts.'"
Arthur's temper, barely contained until now, finally snapped. His jaw tightened, a vein pulsing at his temple as he exploded.
"Do you think this is some kind of joke?" he roared. "If I hadn't found that specialist to fix Bella's forehead, I would never have forgiven you! And let's not forget—you're the reason we had to postpone our wedding. You will take responsibility for this!"
My gaze flicked to Bella's forehead—smooth, flawless. But I remembered the truth. She'd tripped on a sand dune, barely scraping her skin on a rock. A tiny cut. Yet she'd screamed like I'd pushed her, wailing about being disfigured, concussed, dying—right in the middle of Dungeness. And Arthur? He hadn't hesitated. He'd scooped her up, rushed her to the hospital, and left me there alone.
I couldn't believe it. Part of me knew he had to see through her act. But he still chose her.
Now, facing his fury, I felt nothing. No anger, no desperation. Just calm.
"Fine," I said evenly. "I'll take responsibility."
He froze, stunned. Silence stretched between us.
Because the old me would have fought. A month ago, I'd have screamed, raged, clawed for his attention. If he so much as glanced at another woman, I'd throw a fit. When he abandoned me for Bella, I'd have lost my mind.
But now? I stood there, unmoved.
His confidence wavered. He looked away, unnerved.
And I smiled to myself.
Arthur, I won't marry you.
Because the woman who survived a month in Dungeness didn't walk out alone. She made a deal.
And the woman standing before you now? She's not the same Lilly.
Arthur had always liked my possessiveness. For ten years, he let me cling to him, chase off every noblewoman in the capital with my sharp tongue and sharper glare. He'd laugh, call them "rotten peach blossoms," and tell me I was the only one meant to stand by his side.
A year ago, we got engaged. The wedding was two weeks away.
Then Bella came back.
His long-lost first love, returning from abroad like some tragic heroine. And from the moment she stepped off that plane, everything changed.
That same night, Arthur personally picked her up from the airport. Threw her a welcome banquet—forgetting he'd promised to spend my birthday with me.
Worse? After the party, he didn't come home. First time in ten years. The next morning, he swore he'd slept on her sofa—that she'd had too much to drink, and he was just being responsible.
I told myself not to overthink it. The wedding was so close.
Then, three days later, Arthur left for work.
Thirty minutes after that, Bella posted a photo.
No warning. No explanation.
Just Arthur, smiling beside her on a flight to Kent.
End of He Chose Her, The Desert Chose Me Chapter 2. Continue reading Chapter 3 or return to He Chose Her, The Desert Chose Me book page.