Chapter 18.
“Mrs. Heskett!”
Sylvia Heskett turned at the sound of her name. Christina Hughes stood nearby, perfectly poised, her beauty sharp as a fresh blade.
Sylvia—Percy’s aunt, and queen of the Delacruz cruise line—controlled everything that happened on this ship.
“Miss Hughes,” she replied coolly.
There was no warmth in her tone. Of course not—Sylvia knew Christina was actively pursuing Percy.
Christina had once overheard Sylvia describing her:
A fine young lady from a respectable family, but far too headstrong for my nephew. A wife should know how to be adored without speaking. Miss Hughes does not.
Even knowing Sylvia disapproved of her, Christina sat down with a bright, doll-like smile.
“What brings you here?” Sylvia asked.
“As a guest on your ship, I thought it only proper to pay my respects.”
“I’d prefer solitude at the moment. It’s been a long evening of socializing.”
In other words: I’ve already greeted the important people. Not you.
Christina curled her fingers into a fist beneath the table, but her impeccable smile never wavered.
“It won’t take long. I simply have something… urgent to discuss.”
Sylvia’s expression thinned; she already knew where this was going.
“You intend to speak about Percy, don’t you?”
Christina didn’t deny it.
“It’s about the woman he seems to be seeing.”
Sylvia’s entire demeanor shifted. “I beg your pardon?”
Exactly as planned, Christina thought.
“Forgive me if this sounds presumptuous,” she continued, voice low and trembling at the edges, “but he was… very close to some lady. Anyone would have misinterpreted it.”
“What exactly are you accusing my nephew of?”
“I—I saw them together. Intimately.” She lowered her voice further. “I saw them kissing.”
Of course, she hadn’t seen a thing. But she believed Percy and that red-haired woman could have.
Sylvia stared, and then—unexpectedly—laughed. A clear, ringing laugh that stopped Christina cold.
“Are you absolutely sure of what you saw?”
“Yes! Why would I lie?”
“If it were true, I’d find it amusing. I didn’t think my nephew had it in him to be so bold.”
Christina blinked, unable to interpret Sylvia’s tone.
“How desperate he must be,” Sylvia said lightly, “to stage such a performance simply to get you off his back. He’s never been the type to hurt others.”
“S—stage?” Christina’s voice sharpened. “That wasn’t staged—!”
“Just days ago, his mind was entirely on his runaway wife. And in that time you expect me to believe he acquired a lover?”
Christina faltered. “I…”
“I know Percy better than anyone. He would never look at another woman.”
Silence fell like a cold curtain.
“I’m sorry, Miss Hughes, but I can’t help you. I will warn him to be more careful—who knows what kind of scandal could arise.”
With that, Sylvia stood.
“I hope you enjoy the cruise. I’m sure it will be… memorable.”
Christina watched her walk away, her polite smile slowly cracking.
A charade?
Absolutely not. Too many details didn’t add up.
Then Percy’s words returned to her:
Christina. You’re not part of the future I want.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
No. She wouldn’t surrender.
If Christina Hughes wanted something, she got it—and she would not lose Percy.
She needed a new plan.
Meanwhile, Kitty was still shaken from the sudden appearance of the elegant blonde.
“Do you know her?” she asked.
What bothered her more was the change in Percy’s expression. He had gone stone-cold—just like during their marriage.
He never smiled back then. Never spoke unless necessary. Soon he had simply moved out, leaving her to drown in guilt and humiliation.
Seeing that same expression now sent a shiver up her spine.
Enough. She wouldn’t fall back into that abyss.
“That woman doesn’t matter,” Percy said.
“But she looked like she was crying,” Kitty murmured.
“She’s not important.”
“Percy,” Kitty interrupted, urgent.
He looked at her again, warm and gentle—so different from the man she once knew.
He liked Kitty Summers. But could she hide the truth forever?
If Percy ever discovered she was really Greta—the wife he abandoned—would he despise her?
No one else could uncover her identity. She had planned everything too carefully.
Except Percy.
He knew Greta’s voice, her habits, her heart. He stood closer to her than anyone.
What if he recognized the truth?
I have to end this.
“We can’t keep seeing each other,” she said.
Percy’s eyes flickered like dim stars.
“You don’t like me?”
“It’s not that.”
“Then why leave?”
“I have… a flaw. Something unforgivable.”
The word tasted like poison.
“You should walk away before you learn what it is.”
“Kitty—”
“Please. Just go.”
Her vision blurred. She turned away, but Percy gently followed her gaze.
“Kitty. Look at me.”
“No.”
“It’s all right,” he murmured. “Everything is all right.”
“It isn’t! If you knew—if you really knew—you’d hate me.”
“I won’t.”
“You will!”
“I only need to know one truth,” he said softly. “You are Kitty Summers. The woman I—”
She froze. Why was he saying things that made it impossible to run?
Did he… know?
“Forget the past,” Percy whispered. “Forget everything complicated. At least here—on this ship—we can just be happy.”
He cupped her shoulders, voice steady.
“You are beloved. By many. Including me. Nothing about that is wrong.”
Her heart quieted, calm as still water.
Yet one question slid out like a breath.
“You have a wife.”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever hated her?”
Percy’s smile was sad and bitter.
“The only person I ever despised… was myself.”
Before she could reply, he drew her into his arms.
“If you need to push me away, do it. But know this—never once did I resent her. Not once.”
She didn’t pull away. Didn’t embrace him either. Simply stood there, held by a man whose arms were unfamiliar and deeply familiar all at once.
Finally, he stepped back, voice gentle again.
“The night’s getting cold. Shall we go inside, Miss Summers?”
