But these were not the pretty, delicate tears I'd seen then. They were the honking-goose, hiccup tears of utter dispair. In between bursts of it, she said, "We were supposed to live here for the rest of our lives and grow old together."
"Oh, sweetie." I stepped over the broken lamp and shredded newspaper to sit next to her . "I know we had plans for this place, but something amazing has happened. Even better than we dreamed of for this house."
Lydia swiped mascara streaks away from those pretty blue eyes and managed to silence her moans. She reached for the tissue box sitting on the undamaged table. "What are you talking about?" She sounded exasperated. Disappointed. In me. Again.
I had to prove her wrong. This time, my plans would work.
Outline his plans to use the boat to search for treasure
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