Two days later
(Morning of December 31st)
Neva lies aroused on her back, her eyes vacant, staring at nothing.
One hand rests beside her head, the other flat on her stomach. Her knees are bent, thighs clasped.
The gentle susurration of ocean waves filters through the cabin walls, but her mind remains distant—elsewhere.
The soft creak of a door opening stirs the silence.
Rhett steps out, towel in hand, drying his damp hair. He's freshly showered, clothed, and walks into her line of sight.
He tosses the towel onto the sofa and approaches her, bending down to place a dewy kiss on her forehead. Neva's lashes veil her gaze at the touch.
The kiss lingers for three still heartbeats before he draws away and catches her eyes.
He knows—something's off.
But he smiles gently and kneels by her side. His fingers graze the curve of her face.
"What do you want for breakfast?" he asks, holding her gaze.
"I'll take anything," Neva replies, a faint smile forming on her lips.
It's been three days since their voyage began. On the first morning, he'd let her out for breakfast, to explore a bit—
The same day she'd met Noah. That night, she had snuck out alone, wandering the ship's upper deck.
Since then, her fiancé hasn't allowed her to take a single step outside the cabin. He's afraid—afraid Raka might trace them.
That abominable man could have his eyes anywhere. The cruise could be wiretapped. Surveillance hacked.
Rhett's survival as a secret agent has always depended on constant vigilance.
Even in his sleep, his mind doesn't switch off. He won't risk it.
"Alright," Rhett says, standing. "I'll order room service."
He picks up the cruise telephone from the nightstand and places the order.
Neva slowly sits up. Her dark, wavy hair tumbles down her back in pleasing disarray.
She gazes out the window to her left, where the endless blue of the ocean shimmers.
"You should freshen up too, Angel," Rhett says, returning to sit beside her.
She hums in response and glances at him.
"What's wrong?" he asks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Neva blinks slowly at him, dazed.
He chuckles and caresses her cheek.
Neva closes her eyes, leaning into his warmth.
"I don't feel well, Rhett," she murmurs, her beautiful eyes lifting to meet his. She bites her lower lip.
Rhett draws her into a gentle embrace.
"It'll all be over soon," he whispers, kissing the crown of her head.
Neva wraps her arms around him tightly, her fists clutching his shirt.
But she's not fine.
The warmth in her limbs belies the weight inside her. Anxious. Crestfallen
"Will we ever return home?" she mumbles.
Rhett sighs. He doesn't know the answer.
"No matter what, we'll always be with each other." He smiles—a real one. A smile that lifts his eyes like window blinds, revealing the soul beneath.
The thread that binds them is secure and sacred. And the warmth they feel in each other is an augury from heaven—of them belonging to each other.
"Wherever we go," he says softly, "we'll always be home."
His words, pure and melodic, soften her gaze. Her eyes twinkle, warmth spreading over her face.
"Our families… our friends—will he hurt them?" Neva asks, pulling away.
Rhett sees the anxiety swimming in her eyes. And he shares it with her.
"They'll be fine, Neva. Don't worry," he assures.
She breathes in deeply and exhales.
"Do you know Ishmael? Why does he look like you?" she asks quietly, the question having lingered too long in her mind.
Just as she expected—Rhett stiffens. His expression darkens, his jaw tightens.
Amused, Neva waits.
"We don't look that alike—and I've got no clue why we even look a little similar," he says flatly, pressing the words so she gets the point.
"I thought maybe you were twins or something," she replies, lips pursed in thought.
To her, they look nearly identical. But through her soul? They couldn't be more different.
She doesn't tell him that, knowing he'd hate the comparison.
Rhett scoffs. "Really?"
"Mhm."
The mere idea makes him want to tear his heart out. But he laughs—because it's her, and her kaleidoscope mind he's always been fascinated with.
"If that were true," he mutters darkly, "I'd go back in time and strangle him in the womb—"
"Shh… Rhett!" Neva quickly presses her finger to his lips. "You talk horribly."
He pulls her finger down and brushes her lips with a kiss.
"Are you still haunted by that day?"
Neva quiets, then nods slowly.
"It feels like a nightmare. It still hasn't really settled in my chest."
She searches his deep, coffee-colored eyes.
"Am I heartless?" she whispers. "Because I barely feel any sympathy for them?"
He gives her a gentle smile. "No, you're not. Battles happen every day.
Why mourn the wicked—those who wouldn't hesitate to slaughter innocents for their cause?"
"Some deaths," he says, "are a blessing to the world."
"You live by that moral to do your job, don't you?" Neva asks, her voice soft.
Rhett gives a shallow smile.
Of course, she sees through him.
"I do."
She takes his hand, presses it to her cheek, and leans into the warmth of his palm.
"I admire you," she whispers. "Soldier."
His eyes light up.
"Thank you. For accepting this mess of me." He kisses her forehead, then brushes a kiss onto each closed eyelid.
They smile at each other—eyes threaded with love.
"Alright now," Rhett murmurs before he can be swept away by her again.
Before he drowns her in his overwhelming, all–consuming love. "Go freshen up."
He pulls her up with him. Neva whines, suddenly livelier, and he smiles.
As he nudges her toward the washroom, she glances back at him over her shoulder.
"I have another question. What does Ishmael do?"
Rhett frowns, tongue pressing the inside of his cheek. Her constant curiosity about Ishmael needles at something bitter in him.
Ridiculous! That man has become his rival in love.
He steps closer, his hands trailing from her shoulders down to her waist. They're already close, but he closes the gap even further—as if to merge them.
Her back molds into his chest. His breath stirs the strands of hair around her ear. Neva blushes, her body warming.
"One more mention of him," he whispers against her ear, "and I swear—I'll make love to you right here."
He nips her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.
"And I promise…" he murmurs, "I won't stop. Not until New Year's Eve."
Neva's eyes widen. Heart pounding against her chest. Her entire face flushes crimson.
"Never!!" she squeals, escaping his unbearable, delicious trap. She grabs the towel from the sofa and rushes away.
Rhett chuckles, dazed—his heart sweetened by the glimpse of his adorable fiancée fleeing, blushing like dawn.