Dear Ex-wife Marry Me (Maja and Ian) novel Chapter 1671

Tobias' cheeks flushed a deep crimson in an instant, a clear sign he was caught off guard.

"Ye—yes, but Queena told me to zip it," he stammered.

Abner, eyebrow quirked, leaned on his cane and made a slow circuit of the scene.

The helping hands were all locals, born and bred in the village. The place was remote, tucked away so that even a trip to the nearest town meant an afternoon's journey by bus.

Fishing was the lifeline here, with villagers drying their catches to sell as fish jerky. If they snagged something rare, they'd haul it to town to hawk to the eateries that catered to tourists.

Abner's presence was magnetic; where he strolled, eyes followed. His stature alone was enough to pique curiosity, prompting whispers and nudges directed at Tobias.

"Has your family always had such a handsome relative?"

"Nah, he ain't family. Queena's the one who fished him out of trouble. My dad brought him back."

As Abner stepped into the Temple family home, Queena's voice greeted him.

"You're still on the mend. Don't wander off now."

The interior was tidy, everything in its place, with a closed door at the far end—likely where the person Tobias mentioned was kept.

Abner had a simple plan: if he'd been brought to this fishing village, could his crew have been saved too? He was still clueless about who had double-crossed him, and if it turned out to be one of his own, they'd have to answer to him.

But Queena was clearly playing her cards close to her chest, and he didn't want to make waves while still recovering.

"Staying cooped up in Tobias' place gets stuffy. Just needed some air."

He didn't venture further inside, instead stepping back out into the open where a gaggle of village women quickly swarmed him with questions about his marital status, job, and salary.

Abner, whose last voyage was on a cargo ship that had long since docked, could only offer a polite smile.

"I hail from Greenfield."

"Greenfield, huh? That's a stone's throw from here," one of the grandmas exclaimed.

"A city boy, I knew it! Look at you, so dashing. My granddaughter, bless her, is as pretty as a picture. You two would make a fine pair if you're not spoken for."

"My old home. I saved you."

"Thank you. And Maja?"

"Maja? Who's that?"

"My fiancée."

His face softened at the mention of her, a stark contrast to the fierceness he'd shown in his last fight.

Queena's expression chilled, though she had turned away, and Ian couldn't see.

His fiancée?

He already had someone he loved.

Her grip on the bowl tightened. Her mind raced through recipes of concoctions—was there one to erase his memories, to make him only remember her, or even to turn him into a fool? Anything would do; she needed him to stay by her side.