The Bride

“Listen, that investor from the north—he seems seriously intent on buying half of our beach!” I tell my husband, barely holding back my outrage.

“Where did he get so motivated? Did someone pour honey on him?” I’m practically shaking with anger!

“Maybe you should also consider his offer? The money really is quite decent.”

I freeze, as if someone pulled the ground out from under my feet. First of all, it’s my sons’ inheritance. Second, their father built the hotel. That’s what’s left of Adam.

I just… can’t. Not ready. It still hurts. It hurts like a burning wound in my soul—as if an open wound has been opened and we’re now pouring salt on it.

“I… I’ll think about it,” I finally exhale. “But I need to see this man. Talk to him.”

“Let me go with you?” he offers softly, but confidently. “I’ll protect you from that northerner. You can count on me.”