Olise
I stepped off the plane with my backpack slung over one shoulder and a knot in my stomach. Summer break. Three whole months back home. I should have been excited, but all I felt was dread mixed with something I couldn’t name.
Mom had texted me last month: I got married! His name is Vincent. You’ll love him. No warning. No meeting beforehand. Just a new husband waiting for me at the house.
The drive from the airport felt longer than usual. When the car pulled up to our two-story home overlooking the bay, I took a deep breath. The place looked the same , white walls, big windows, the garden Mom loved. But everything felt different.
The front door opened before I could knock. And there he was.
Vincent.
He was taller than I expected, broad-shouldered and solid, wearing a simple da
