Chapter 1

My fiancé had a bizarre rule: every single holiday, we had to draw lots.

It was supposed to fairly decide whether we spent the holidays at my parents' house or at the home of his female best friend, Chloe.

In our five years together, my name was never drawn. Not once.

Until right before this Thanksgiving.

For the first time, I begged him to skip the game.

"Logan, we're getting married soon, and my parents haven't even met you yet."

He just looked annoyed.

"It's a rule we agreed on. We can't just change it because of what you want."

"Besides, what about Chloe? What is she supposed to do?"

He sounded so righteous and unshakeable that there was nothing I could say.

So I went quiet and didn't bring it up again.

And I didn't tell him what happened half an hour earlier.

While dusting the living room, I had accidentally knocked over his wooden lot container.

Two sticks rolled across the floor, stopping right at my feet.

One had Chloe's name carved into it.

The other one had Chloe's name, too.

His so-called "fair rule" was rigged from the very beginning.

Every holiday was already promised to Chloe.

My phone buzzed in my hand.

It was a text from my mom, asking yet again if I'd be bringing my fiancé home this time.

I smiled faintly and texted back a single word:

"Yes."

On the day of the Thanksgiving draw.

Logan's best friend, Chloe, burst out laughing the moment she saw my packed suitcases.

"Saffron, aren't you a bit too eager? You really can't wait to drag Logan home, can you?"

She turned to Logan, slipping her arm around his waist and playfully pinching him.

"Come on, Logan. Call me babe just once."

"If you do, I'll make an exception this year. No draw—you can just go straight home with Saffron!"

Logan smiled indulgently and interrupted her:

"What nonsense are you talking now?"

"If I really didn't go home with you to visit your mom, you'd be crying your eyes out."

He tapped Chloe's nose, his eyes dripping with affection.

He shut down the idea of skipping the draw without a second thought.

And he never once bothered to ask if I needed him by my side.

This was our fifth year together, and our first Thanksgiving since getting engaged.

Living six hundred miles away, my parents had never once laid eyes on my fiancé.

They had called and asked over and over.

Every time, I could only tell them, "Soon."

When "soon" would actually come, I had no idea.

After all, Logan still had to play his drawing game with his darling best friend.

Remembering how I hadn't won a single time in five years, I fought back the sting behind my eyes.

I stepped forward and linked my arm through Logan's.

"Let's go. Time to draw."

I forced a tight smile.

"My parents are waiting for us."

As I pulled Logan away, Chloe's hands were forced off his waist.

Her jaw clenched, and when she met my gaze, the smug challenge in her eyes was barely concealed.

"Honestly, Saffron."

"What makes you so sure your name will come up?"

A smirk crept onto her face.

"You haven't been picked once in five whole years!"

"Maybe fate just isn't on your side."

Seeing how smug she was, it was obvious she knew Logan had rigged it all along.

My name wasn't even on the sticks. How could I ever win?

It felt like a thousand needles pricking my heart.

Yet my footsteps didn't falter for a second.

Logan pulled out the wooden container.

He shook it twice, pulled out a stick without looking, and tossed it onto the coffee table.

Clatter.

The second the wooden stick hit the surface, Chloe was already chattering away with Logan about their Thanksgiving plans.

Fancy dinners, holiday movie marathons, going to a spa resort...

Whatever Chloe suggested, Logan nodded along without hesitation.

"I can never say no to you," he sighed playfully, stroking her hair. "What kind of guy is ever going to put up with you?"

Chloe gave a mock huff.

"They say best friends are for life! I'm sticking with you forever!"

Staring at their casual intimacy, I lowered my gaze.

I spoke softly, cutting into their bubble:

"You haven't even looked at the stick yet."

Chloe scoffed under her breath.

"Saffron, you really don't know when to quit, do you?"

"Did you honestly think there was a chance it'd be—"

Realizing she was about to slip up, Logan quickly placed a hand over her mouth.

He flashed me an easy smile.

"Chloe's just blunt, Saffron. She doesn't mean anything by it."

"Let's check it now."

He slowly picked up the wooden stick from the table, already wearing an apologetic look.

"See, Saffron, looks like I can't come home with you again—"

His voice caught in his throat.

His eyes widened as he finally read the name carved into the wood.

Saffron.

His fiancée.