Two weeks later, the bandages were off, the bruises were fading, and the colour had returned to Ava's cheeks. She still tired easily, but her energy was largely restored, and the discussions about the honeymoon had been the most revitalizing therapy.
We had poured over maps and images, discarding obvious resorts in favour of seclusion and beauty.
"It has to be far," she declared one evening, leaning against me while pointing at a brightly coloured island on the tablet. "So far that work can't possibly reach you."
I agreed immediately. The decision settled on Bali, a place synonymous with escape, serenity, and warmth, everything our marriage had not been.
I booked a villa far from the tourist rush, situated on a cliff overlooking the Indian Ocean. The travel arrangements were handled with Alex Matteo efficiency: a long-range private jet, discreet ground transport, and a complete block on all business communications.
