“Where are you going on honeymoon?” one of Alex’s business colleagues asked me.
“Oh, we haven’t decided yet,” I said. “After all, we’re so busy with everything at the moment.”
“You could always go to the farm if you like. I’d be happy to sell the thing, actually. You and your husband ought to go and look at it.”
I mentioned this odd exchange to Alex later, and he gave me the first smile I’d seen from him in weeks.
“That farm…” he said, “…is on Martha’s Vineyard. He’s been trying to sell the thing to me for months, but I keep telling him 100 million dollars is too much money.”
“A Hundred—” I said in disbelief, but Alex had already been swept away by more admirers and guests. I sighed. Was this how it was supposed to be on your wedding day? I’d barely seen him. Not that I was thinking a
