Joan's family, though? The Hensons moved in circles both legitimate and... less so. And Joan herself was fire and teeth—she'd loved Rhys just as fiercely as I had in our past life, but she'd never have tolerated his wandering.
"Hold on."
Joan stepped forward, cutting him off. "She's too docile. Boring. Pick me instead."
I froze.
After everything—after dying together—why would she still want to marry him?
She leaned close, her whisper meant only for me: "Relax. I don't love him either. Not anymore. I just refuse to let him and that canary live happily ever after."
Savannah's brow creased with concern. She looked to me. "Ursula, surely you wouldn't agree to this...?"
"It's fine, Mrs. Gilbert." I lifted my chin, keeping my voice steady. "Joan loves Rhys more than I ever could. I withdraw willingly."
Savannah blinked, caught off guard, but recovered quickly. "Well... if you're certain."
Rhys studied me for a moment—one flicker of curiosity—before his face settled back into indifference.
Typical.
In my past life, after he'd chosen me, Joan had waged war. Public humiliation. Tabloid scandals. Anything to claw back his attention.