Don't Sell The Motel Day!
You and your husband are partners in life and it necessarily follows that you're partners in your finances as well. Neither of you have ever made a business decision without consulting the other first. That's the way it's been, that neither of you would spend so much as five dollars without checking with the other. It's what's made your marriage a successful one. And it's why you cannot rationalize that since the motel was left by your grandfather in your name alone, you should be able to act against your husband's will and keep the money-bleeder just because you happened to conduct a twelve year adulterous affair in room 112.
Let's look at the arguments for and against before you go ahead with anything.
Why you should sell:
When the Renfork Freeway was opened, it detoured 40% of traffic away from your interstate and shut down two rest areas within forty miles. You've been closing the past three years deeper and deeper in the red. To continue operating your motor lodge even for another six months will require the largest loan you've ever drawn, and the bank doesn't exactly fork over the free lollipops when you walk in anymore. You're fifty one and your husband is fifty seven. Now is not the time to build on top of your debt. You may not want to admit it, but at your age you should only be making the safe bets. And the safe bet is taking the half a mil you've been offered for the land.
Why you should not sell:
You agreed never to try to establish contact with Brennan in any other way than to walk into room 112 and put your lips to his veiny eyelids. And Brennan agreed to never show up without calling to reserve room 112 under the name Latham and always three days in advance. He agreed to arrive always on a Thursday, when your husband is at Walt's Tavern for video trivia night, and he agreed to stay for as long as it took you to put your skeleton key in his deadbolt.
You both also agreed to never tell each other a lie. Therefore, when he said he would come back, he made a promise. As did you when you said you'd be waiting until the world ends.
You can't just sell the motel and walk away, no question. You made a promise. But you also cannot doom you and your husband to watching your lives come to a close in poverty.
You promised to wait until the world ends. So end the world. Burn down room 112. That's the only world you and Brennan ever shared. Burn it down along with the rest of the motel and collect the insurance on top of what you'll be selling the land for, if you can manage to make it look like an accident. If not, you can still sell the land.
Who knows when developers will get around to leveling the structure. A year? Two? There is simply no way you can walk away from room 112 and leave Brennan to find it abandoned and empty, negating your promise and therefore obliterating the only thing you both could demand from each other. End the world and let the love between you and your lover live.
Happy Don't Sell The Motel Day!