Chapter 1

My husband, Patrick Walker, was a desert expedition leader.

Every time a trip ended, he brought me back a rose quartz rose, the kind that only grows out at Devil's Flats.

Three years of marriage, and he'd brought me eighty-nine of them in all.

I told him, smiling, "Once we've saved up ninety-nine, let's have a baby."

I never expected that on his ninetieth expedition, he'd come home empty-handed.

Patrick explained, "The terrain at Devil's Flats has shifted. Harvesting the roses is too dangerous now."

I nodded, telling him I understood. Romance meant nothing to me next to his life.

But then, on his hundredth expedition, I saw one of his regulars post on social media:

"Captain Walker said only the purest rose quartz roses in the desert are good enough for me, so he braved the danger to gather a full hundred for me."

I stood there staring at those dreamy, beautiful roses. Then I opened my box and found that mine had long since been swapped out for cheap plastic ones.

The tears dropped. I lifted my hand and wiped them away.

If love had gone bad, then I would cut it loose.

...

"I was only joking when I said I wanted a hundred-something rose quartz roses. I never thought Captain Walker would take it to heart. He went looking even with his leg hurt, worked himself to the bone to make up the count."

Diana Mason had posted another update.

The tone was complaining. The attitude was showing off.

The comments underneath were all envy:

"So spoiled! I'm so jealous of you, Didi."

"Too dreamy. If a man put a gift like that in front of me, I'd marry him without a second thought."

"Is this the official announcement? Captain Walker chased you for five years, and he's finally won over his goddess."

...

My eyes locked on those two words, "five years," and it felt like something sharp had dragged across my heart, cutting deep enough to bleed and never stop.

Patrick and I met on a desert expedition. I'd fought with my family back then and gone off alone to clear my head.

Patrick saw I was down, and the whole way he found ways to cheer me up.

When we passed Devil's Flats, he went out into a storm just to find a rose quartz rose for me.

All because I'd said, offhand, that I wanted to see one.

That was the moment the door to my heart came open.

I thought, a man who would risk his life for me like that had to be steady and sincere.

When the trip ended, I was the one who proposed. We held a desert wedding, and under a sky full of stars, with the shifting sands as our witness, we became husband and wife.

To take care of him, I moved into the little town on the edge of the desert.

Even though the climate never agreed with me, even though I got sick every few days, I never once wavered.

Because I was certain Patrick loved me. The rose quartz roses he brought back after every trip were the proof.

I never imagined I was only Patrick's practice run at winning the woman he really wanted.

Something for him to rehearse his romance on.

I moved my stiff fingers, and after a good few dozen seconds, I left a comment under Diana Mason's post: "Congratulations."

The moment I sent it, Patrick's call came through, urgent.

He'd barely connected before he was snapping at me. "Luna Chavez, what are you playing at? Miss Mason and I are just ordinary acquaintances. Delete that comment right now!"

Quietly swapping out the roses meant for me, gathering a full hundred to give to her, and that counted as ordinary acquaintances?

The tears kept falling, but I couldn't stop myself from tipping my head back and laughing, a hollow, empty sound.

"Bring every one of those roses back to me and I'll believe you."

"Luna, are you ever going to let this go? You're getting worked up over a few rocks? Haven't I given you enough? Delete the comment and apologize to Miss Mason publicly on your feed, or else—"

"Or else what?"

"We only held a ceremony. We never registered. If you don't do it, you can forget about ever getting that marriage certificate as long as you live!"

Something in me went cold.

After the wedding I'd pushed him more than once to go register. He always put it off with one excuse or another.

Later I couldn't stand it and threatened to leave if he wouldn't. Patrick held me and said, "Luna, a piece of paper doesn't prove anything. As long as my heart never changes, we'll always be husband and wife."

I still wouldn't agree, and only then did he plead with me. "All right, all right, just give me a few more years of work. I don't want you marrying me with nothing to your name. That's not fair to you. Let me save up more, buy the jewelry, buy a house. Whatever other brides get, I'll arrange all of it for you."

He seemed so sincere that I gave in.

I never thought that not registering would become his reason to look down on me.

The tears came harder, until I could barely stay on my feet. I gripped the phone tight and said, "Thank you for the reminder."

The phone slipped from my hand. I didn't reach for it, didn't answer Patrick's frantic "hello, hello, hello." I turned and started packing my things.