Isla's POV
Conrad had left an hour ago—some call with investors in Singapore, time zones being what they are. I'd nodded when he explained, pretending I understood the urgency.
The truth is, I was relieved.
Being alone in this space feels like finally exhaling after holding my breath too long. The performance of being Mrs. Esterházy, even in private, even when it's just the two of us, exhausts me.
I wander through the rooms like a ghost haunting someone else's life.
Everything smells wrong—cedar and something expensive, instead of the salt air and mildew I'd gotten used to in Cannon Beach.
Two days married.
I find myself in the hallway, opening doors I haven't opened yet. A linen closet. A bathroom with heated floors. A home gym with a yoga mat still in its plastic wrapper.
The las
