Ribbons Unbound: My Fiancé's Lingering Regret novel Chapter 1

After seven years of their handfasting, Ethan Ferrers inherited everything from his deceased brother.

Including his widowed sister-in-law, Victoria.

Every time, after spending night with Victoria, he would hold me close and whisper reassuringly:

"Freya, just wait a little longer. Once Victoria gets pregnant, we'll have our wedding ceremony!"

This was the only requirement from his family for him to inherit the Ferrers estate.

In the six months since returning to Scotland, Ethan had sexed with Victoria 52 times.

What started as once a month quickly escalated to every other day.

Finally, after the 52nd time sitting alone until dawn, news came that Victoria was pregnant.

But along with it came the announcement of Ethan and Victoria's wedding.

"Mommy, is someone getting married?" my son asked innocently.

I stared numbly at the wedding decorations filling the house—white ribbons and flower arrangements—as I pulled my confused little boy into my arms:

"Yes, sweetheart. Daddy is marrying someone he loves, which means we need to move out."

Ethan followed the tradition of our Scottish Gwendolyn family, we practiced the ancient tradition of handfasting—a binding commitment where couples join hands in a ceremony, their union sealed with ribbons for a year.

Then we could formalize our union permanently or part ways with no stigma.

We believed the heart's promise was more sacred than any legal document.

...

After putting my son to bed, I opened my phone to book a flight back to Scotland.

Unfortunately, with Christmas’ Day weekend just ending, the post-holiday travel rush was in full swing. The earliest flight I could book was seven days away.

I stared at the date on the ticket, feeling a strange numbness.

February 14th—Valentine's Day, and also the seventh anniversary of our dating.

With a bitter smile, I thought how perfectly symmetrical it was—our story would end on the same day it had begun.

A strong rose perfume suddenly enveloped me from behind as Ethan's gentle voice came from above:

"What are you looking at?"

I turned off my phone screen subliminally. "Just The Herald Tribune."

In just six months, Victoria's rose perfume had practically soaked into Ethan's skin.

I pushed him away with disgust.

"Go take a shower before talking to me."

Ethan sniffed himself, looking slightly embarrassed as he released me.

"Alr..Alright... I've been neglecting you lately, my fault. I won't stay with Vicky these days any more."

"What's wrong? Did you call the doctor? Is he on his way?" After a few steps, he realized something was off.

He turned back apologetically, looking at me leaning against the doorframe.

"Maybe Victoria get sick, I need to check on her. You know, honey... With my brother gone, I'm the only family she has."

"I'll be back soon, Freya. You've always been so understanding."

That word—"understanding."

I endured six months and fifty-two lonely nights.

Our Gwendolyn family from Scotland practiced handfasting—a bond where couples commit with ribbons binding their joined hands, hearts promised for a year and a day without legal marriage, their love proven through devotion rather than documents.

Ethan, by my family's ancient tradition, I bound my heart to yours fifty-two times.

I renewed our promise with each ribbon, while you never once truly tied your soul to mine.

I spoke softly: "Ethan Ferrers."

His brow furrowed, about to offer more reassurances, when he was startled by the sudden weight on his shoulders.

I draped a coat over him. "It's cold at night. Put more on before you go."

Ethan clutched the coat on his shoulders, his eyes filled with an unreadable emotion.

"Freya, you..."