Page 20 of Love Conquers All

And maybe Sylvie would agree to write a big think piece about it.

In the bathroom, Graham got up the nerve to google Sylvie’s journalist career. It floored him. He couldn’t believe he’d never read her before. When he reached out to a few other activists about her, they wrote back things likeSylvie Bruckson makes real wavesandSylvie is the bomb. I met her in Thailand. Did you read that piece she just published?Graham guessed that he’d protected his heart and mind so much from the mention of Sylvie that he’d forced himself not to notice her fame in the environmental protection sphere. Had Hannah read her? Had Hannah protected Graham from news of Sylvie? It sounded likesomething Hannah would do—not out of jealousy, but because she knew how Sylvie had broken Graham’s heart.

Graham jumped out of his reverie when he heard his mother ask, “So will you be selling that old inn?”

Sylvie’s face was heavy with shadows. “It’s what I want.”

“Of course.” Valerie nodded furiously. “I imagine you have a life to get back to.”

Sylvie flinched and took a drink. “It’s just that my father is making it difficult on me.”

“Oh.” Valerie looked as though she didn’t know what to say.

It was then Graham remembered his mother, storming up to James at the regatta, giving him a piece of her mind.

“I haven’t been back to the inn,” Sylvie explained timidly. “Or to the house.”

“Where are you staying?” Valerie asked.

“I have a hotel.”

Valerie’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “You shouldn’t be in a hotel, honey! You’re family.”

Sylvie looked as though she didn’t know what to say.

Graham might have suggested that they weren’t family because Sylvie ran away before they could get married. Or that they weren’t family because things got way too complicated, and they just couldn’t take it.

Graham took a long drink and waited for a beat of silence to pass before he said, “Do you need help going through your dad’s stuff?”

Sylvie looked surprised. “To be honest, I’ve been thinking about burning both places to the ground and running for the hills.”

Graham and Valerie chuckled, but Sylvie didn’t look like she was fully lying.

“When do you want to get back to Manhattan, honey?” Valerie asked. “We can help you speed up the process.”

Sylvie flared her nostrils. It was difficult to read her expression.

“My dad wants me to run the inn for a full year,” she explained.

“Well, that’s out of the question,” Valerie said. “You have a career to get back to. I’m sure you have someone waiting in Manhattan to return to, too.” Valerie’s eyes searched Sylvie’s for signs.

Graham knew his mother was fishing for the truth.

But Sylvie wasn’t eager to give it.

Instead, she said, “If I put the inn up for sale immediately, the funds from the sale will be donated to the Next Generation Nantucket Designers.”

Graham’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”

Valerie looked livid. “I can’t believe he’d do this to you.”

“I can believe it. It’s every bit the man James Bruckson was,” Sylvie stated.

Graham rubbed his chest as his anxiety mounted. Sylvie seemed unable to look at him. From the speakers, one of James’s seventies classics pumped, and it made Graham feel as though he was plunging through time. How old was he? What year was it? He and Sylvie were forty, but they were also sixteen and in love.

“I’ll run the inn,” Graham said.

His mother gave him a curious smile.

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