I cannot tell you the level of happiness I feel right now. Like, it’s immeasurable. I feel drunk off Champagne, all bubbly and dizzy. And the insane number of comments on this post is bananas.
Dean’s damn talented at making a woman feel good.
Lord, it’s me again…
I wake up every morning specifically for this hit of dopamine.
Forget my girl bro. Take me.
Blessing my feed every day.
Built my feed brick by brick.
I’m tagged a ton, too, with comments like:Girl, does he look at you like this irl?
And also:He’s just doing it for the golden FINCH $$$
If only that last commenter knew how untrue that is. Dean wouldn’t take my money, even if I begged. He’s hellbent on doing all this on his own, with zero handouts. When we discussed bank loans, he revealed he’d taken a huge line of credit to pay off the debt he’d racked up while taking care of his grandfather and would never do it again. The only inheritance was the land and home, which Dean isnever selling, but taxes on it nearly wiped him out… and then came the Clyde-Smith vultures.
He just needs a foothold on this business again. A chance to get things up and running. Sure, he could have left the cabins looking old and shabby, and marketed them as glamping, but that’s not his goal. That system no longer works in this area, thanks to the ski resorts and luxury hotels nearby. His competition has leveled up, which means he has to as well.
I get it. But it’s going to take time, which he doesn’t have. Money, which he doesn’t have. If he’s only willing to work odd jobs for side money, and post content online like this, then it’s going to take a lot of attention to make this work in his favor.
He’ll get there.
I’ll make sure of it.
Hey, at least he’s a hard worker and can do all the renovations himself. That’s got to save a ton of money, right? Nick is willing to help, which is awesome. He also has me… and no one, I mean,no oneshould underestimate me with a hammer.
Dismounting from the snowmobile, I dig out the cabin key from under the rug. It sticks a little as the cold metal slides into the lock and I have to shove my shoulder against the door to open it.
One step inside my cabin and my eyes can’t quite make sense of what I’m looking at.
What’s that noise?
Why is there water on the floorboards?
What the fuck is going on here?
Quickly moving to the kitchen area, my heart stops when I see it’s a complete wreck. Water has saturated everything. It’s partly frozen on the floor. The cabinets are leaking.
“What the hell is this?”
Did I accidentally leave the faucet running for days and flood the cabin?
Oh my god.
Guilt chokes me.
I don’t know what to do…
Everything is ruined.
I’ve set Dean back more money. More time. More energy and supplies. I’ve messed up his best cabin.
When did I use that sink? Why would I leave it on like that?
My mother’s voice booms in my head.“You stupid idiot. You’re absolutely worthless. This is why you should just be a trophy wife. They don’t lift a finger. You ruined everything. He’s going to be so mad at you. He’s going to hate you.
