"Give me a minute," Isabel whispered quietly into the phone, only half paying attention to her confused brother on the other end of the line as the drama in front of her escalated.
"Just cut the act," Owen seethed, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at the woman with bare, disgusted contempt. "You know your theatrics never worked on me, and they certainly aren't going to work on me today."
"Owen!" the woman gasped, clutching her chest as she let out a sharp, offended breath. "Is that any way to speak to your wife whom you haven't seen in ten years?"
Isabel let out a small, horrified gasp of her own at the revelation, her hand flying to her mouth as the room seemed to tilt.
"Issy!" Darius called out again through the phone speaker, his voice demanding an answer, but she couldn't manage a single word. Her eyes remained completely glued to the cold scene playing out twenty feet away.
"Ex-husband," Owen corrected her, his voice dropping into a glacial register that made the hairs on Isabel's arms stand up. "And again, I'm going to ask what you are doing here?"
Baxter stepped forward into the light, a smooth, professional smile spreading across his face as he looked at Owen. "We didn't get a proper chance to introduce ourselves over at the diner the other afternoon, but I'm Baxter Johnson. I work for …" He was clearly trying to diffuse the issues between Dr. Wineberg and Owen.
"No, no, no," Isabel breathed under her breath, her heart starting to plummet straight toward the floorboards as she watched Linda look at Baxter with icy disdain, associating him with Dr. Wineberg.
"I'm here for two reasons," Dr. Wineberg stated, reaching into her leather bag and cutting Baxter off before he could say another word. "The first being that while I've searched for your address over the last decade, I've been carrying a certified copy of our original South Carolina divorce files with me. There are several vital amendments that you neglected to sign before you left Charleston."
"Excuse me?" Owen stood completely frozen, his face turning the color of chalk. "What did you just say?"
"Our divorce was never finalized," the woman purred, pouting her lips as she clutched the papers against her blazer. "A technical error at the state records clerk's office means thedecree was never officially registered. We are still legally married."
Isabel froze behind the planter, her blood turning to pure ice as her heart did a slow, painful descent to the floor. The words echoed through her mind like a physical blow.They are still married.
"Isabel, what is going on over there?" Darius demanded through the line, his voice thick with authority. "Tell me right now."
"There are unexpected visitors at the hotel," Isabel told him, her voice barely a rough whisper as she kept her eyes on the foyer. "It's the woman from the diner. It turns out she is Owen's estranged wife, and she isn't alone. Our cousin Baxter is standing right beside her." She swallowed hard, the dryness in her throat making it difficult to breathe. "And Darius... Linda is standing in the foyer right next to them. She’s hearing every single word."
"I'm already in the car," Darius breathed, the sound of a car door slamming echoing loudly through the phone line before his tires crunched violently over the gravel driveway. "Stall Baxter. Do not let him speak to Linda under any circumstances until I get there."
"I'll try," Isabel told him, though as she disconnected the call, she felt a profound wave of doubt. Her mind was a complete mess, her thoughts spinning in circles while her heart remained frozen near her feet. All she could think about, all that kept ringing through her brain, were those five words.They are still legally married and why does that make me feel like this?
Linda
Linda stood completely rigid, her back straight as a board as she watched the exchange unfold on the lobby rug. Her mind reeled, trying to process the sudden invasion of her quiet hotel. What the heck was this vile woman doing on her property, and why on earth were she and Owen still legally bound together? Owen had explicitly told her years ago that his marriage had ended in a clean, finalized dissolution back in South Carolina.
She took a sharp step forward, her protective instincts for her best friend overriding her confusion. She glanced at the smooth man standing behind the crying woman, recognizing him from the descriptions Michael had shared after the incident at the diner.
"Sorry, what are you really doing here?" Linda asked, her voice carrying a sharp, glacial edge that cut right through the woman’s soft whimpering. “Is it just to stir up more trouble for Owen again?”
Dr. Wineberg turned around toward Linda, tears vanishing in a single fraction of a second as a bright, artificial smile broke across her face.
"Dr. Heart," Dr. Wineberg gushed, stepping forward with an expression of feigned awe. "It is a true honor to see you again."
"Like Owen said, cut the nonsence Dr. Wineberg," Linda ordered, her tone remaining completely flat and cold as she ignored the flattery. "You could’ve called Owen or sent yourattorney, yet you travelled all the way to Sweet Blossom Bay from South Carolina.” She folded her arms and stood her ground she was not about to get brow beaten by the academic bully.
"Did you just say you're still my wife?" Owen suddenly spoke, his shock wearing off.
"Yes, and I brought the divorce papers with me so we can finally settle the filings," Debbi confirmed, her fingers tapping against the documents in her hands as her eyes scanned Owen’s rigid face with a look of desperate hope. "Maybe the two of us could grab dinner tonight to go over the terms?"
Owen’s jaw clenched so hard the muscle in his cheek began to twitch violently.
"Why are we still married after all these years, Debbi?" Owen snapped, his voice exploding through the quiet foyer and Linda could see he was so angry he could barely process what this witch was saying. "All you had to do ten years ago was sign the finalized decree and get it filed, yet you couldn't even manage to execute a simple piece of paperwork correctly. No wonder you always had to resort to stealing other people's work and taking credit for their glory. You are incapable of doing anything right."
Isabel and Linda were both taken aback by the raw, biting fury in Owen’s voice. Linda had never heard the mild-mannered café owner speak with such absolute venom before.
Before Dr. Wineberg could summon another round of on-demand tears, the tall man standing behind her stepped forward into the center of the rug, holding his hands up in a placating gesture.
"Maybe this isn't such a good conversation to be having in a hotel foyer," the man suggested, turning his smooth smile directly toward Linda. "Ah, you're Ms. Heart?"
