Gwendolyn"S Choice
Copyright© 2026 by Megumi Kashuahara
Chapter 9
The ride back to the ranch was quiet, but not the tense silence of before. This was different—comfortable, settled. The kind of quiet that comes when two people don’t need to fill the air with words just to prove they’re together.
Gwen sat beside Ethan, the marriage certificate and deed folded carefully in her pocket. She kept touching it through the fabric, making sure it was real. Her name. On paper. Legal. Permanent.
Gwendolyn Matthews.
She’d practiced writing it on a scrap of paper that morning, forming each letter carefully. The ink had smudged a little on the “M” but she didn’t care. It was hers.
They were hers.
The thought should have terrified her. Instead, it felt like finally exhaling after holding her breath for years.
Ethan glanced at her, caught her small smile. “What are you thinking about?”
“That I own land now.” She shook her head slightly. “Three months ago I was chained in a barn. Now I own half a ranch.”
“Not half. Equal partner.” Ethan’s voice was firm. “That means you have just as much say in what happens as I do.”
“Even if I want to do something you think is foolish?”
“Even then. Though I reserve the right to argue about it first.”
Gwen laughed—a real laugh, startled out of her. “Fair enough.”
They crested the hill and the ranch spread out before them. The house with its neat porch. The barn she’d helped repair. The corrals where the horses grazed. The garden plot she’d started clearing last week.
Home.
The word still felt strange in her mind, but less foreign than before. This was home. Not because someone had given it to her, but because she’d chosen it. Chosen him. Chosen to build something here.
Ethan pulled the wagon up to the house and set the brake. He climbed down, then turned and offered his hand.
Gwen took it.
He didn’t let go immediately. Instead, he looked up at her, his gray eyes serious.
“I know this is ... a lot. The marriage. The deed. All of it.” He paused. “I don’t expect anything from you tonight that you’re not ready to give. We can take this as slow as you need.”
Gwen’s throat tightened. Even now—even after she’d said yes, signed the paper, kissed him in front of witnesses—he was still giving her space. Still making sure she had a choice.
“What if I’m ready?” she asked quietly.
Ethan’s breath caught. “Then ... then we take it at your pace. You say stop, we stop. No questions.”
“No questions,” she repeated. Then she squeezed his hand. “Help me down?”
He did, his hands steady at her waist. But instead of stepping back, she stayed close.
“Ethan.”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. For everything. For...” She struggled for words. “For seeing me.”
“I see you, Gwen.” His voice was rough. “I see you, and I’m not going anywhere.”
She kissed him then—not the brief ceremonial kiss from the church, but something deeper. A promise. A beginning.
When they pulled apart, both were breathing harder.
“We should probably go inside,” Ethan said.
“Probably,” Gwen agreed.
Neither of them moved.
Then Gwen laughed—breathless and a little wild—and grabbed his hand. “Come on, husband. Let’s go home.”
Inside, the house was exactly as they’d left it. Clean. Simple. Safe.
Gwen hung her shawl on the peg by the door and stood in the main room, suddenly uncertain. She’d been in this house for weeks now. Knew every corner of it. But somehow it felt different now. Changed by the words they’d spoken in that church.
Ethan moved to the stove. “I could make us some coffee. Or—”
“Ethan.”
He turned.
Gwen stood in the middle of the room, her hands clasped in front of her. She looked nervous but determined.
“I don’t want coffee.”
“All right.” He stepped closer, watching her carefully. “What do you want?”
Gwen took a breath. This was it. The moment she’d been terrified of and hoping for in equal measure.
“I want...” She met his eyes. “I want my wedding night. With my husband.”
Ethan went very still. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Her voice didn’t waver. “I’m choosing this. Choosing you.”
He closed the distance between them and cupped her face gently. “Then I’m honored. And Gwen?” He waited until she looked at him. “We do this your way. Your pace. You’re in control here. Understand?”
She nodded, something tight in her chest loosening. “I understand.”
He kissed her—slow and careful, giving her time to pull away if she needed to.
She didn’t.
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