The sound of the ocean crashing against the stilts of the overwater villa was supposed to be relaxing. To Julian Thorne, it was the only sound keeping him grounded as he paced the length of the massive bedroom.
It was day seven of their honeymoon. The first six days had been a blur of sun, sand, and locking the bedroom doors to make up for five lost years. But this morning, Julian had woken up to an empty bed and the sound of Maya getting violently sick in the master bathroom.
Julian stopped pacing and stared at the closed bathroom door.
Maya? he called out, his voice laced with a rare, unfiltered panic. Let me in. I am calling the island's medical staff.
I am fine, Julian, Maya's voice came through the thick wood, sounding weak and breathless. Just... give me a minute. Must have been
