Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

Tobias' cheeks flushed a deep crimson in an instant, a clear sign he was caught off guard.

"Ye—yes, but Queena toldto zip it," he stammered.

Abner, eyebrow quirked, leaned on his cane and made a slow circuit of the scene.

The helping hands were all locals, born and bred in the village. The place was remote, tucked away so that even a trip to the

nearest town meant an afternoon's journey by bus.

Fishing was the lifeline here, with villagers drying their catches to sell as fish jerky. If they snagged something rare, they'd haul it to

town to hawk to the eateries that catered to tourists.

Abner's presence was magnetic; where he strolled, eyes followed. His stature alone was enough to pique curiosity, prompting

whispers and nudges directed at Tobias.

"Has your family always had such a handsrelative?"

"Nah, he ain't family. Queena's the one who fished him out of trouble. My dad brought him back."

As Abner stepped into the Temple family home, Queena's voice greeted him.

"You're still on the mend. Don't wander off now."

The interior was tidy, everything in its place, with a closed door at the far end—likely where the person Tobias mentioned was kept.

Abner had a simple plan: if he'd been brought to this fishing village, could his crew have been saved too? He was still clueless

about who had double-crossed him, and if it turned out to be one of his own, they'd have to answer to him.

clearly playing her cards close to her chest, and he

in Tobias' place gets

further inside, instead stepping back out into the

questions about his marital status, job, and

voyage was on a cargo ship that had

"I hail from Greenfield."

huh? That's a stone's throw from here,"

it! Look at you, so dashing. My granddaughter, bless her, is as pretty as a picture. You two would make

if you're not

Abner found himself barricaded by their enthusiasm,

he

eager matchmakers deflated like balloons. "So young, and already taken," they

dropped as a cough

was the first to enter, carrying a

staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, his body too battered to move. Footsteps approached,

before him, a bowl of bitter brew in her hands and

"You're awake?"

him sit up. "Drink

swallowing

the

emptied the bowl, he asked, "Where

old home. I saved

"Thank you. And Maja?"

"Maja? Who's that?"

"My fiancée."

face softened at the mention of her, a stark contrast to the fierceness he'd shown in his last

had turned away, and lan couldn't

His fiancée?

already had

grip on the bowl tightened. Her mind raced through recipes of concoctions—was there one