“She Mocked My Beach House at Breakfast — That Evening, I Sold Everything She Thought Was Hers”

the cottage.” The cottage—the smaller property Savannah had been calling “theirs” for months, the one she’d already picked out new furniture for, the one she’d told friends they were buying. The one that was also in my name alone, left to me by my aunt fifteen years ago.

Harry studied me carefully. “You understand this will burn bridges.”

“The bridges continue reading …