Lucas

You clutch a half-finished bottle of wine, feeling the world around you blur. The salty wind ruffles your silky hair, and tears, mingling with the wine, stream down your cheeks. You remember how, just hours ago, you passed your cabin and heard muffled voices and laughter. And how your heart sank when you saw your husband, Thomas, kissing a red-haired girl. Right in your cabin. Right on your honeymoon.

The pain burns more bitterly than alcohol. You try to escape it, to drown your hurt and disappointment in wine. But it doesn't get any easier. Every sip only deepens the realization that the fairy tale you've so carefully constructed has turned out to be a lie.

Giving in to impulse, you step out onto the edge of the deck, feeling the rocking of the yacht throw you off balance. You know it's foolish and dangerous. But a part of you, desperate for peace, is ready to let go into the sea's embrace.

Suddenly, your foot slips, and the world turns upside down. You instinctively scream, feeling the fall into the icy water become inevitable.

But someone's strong hand grabs you tightly around the waist, pulling you out of the abyss.

"Ma'am, please be careful!" you hear a deep, velvety voice.

You look up through tear-stained eyes and see the yacht's captain standing before you. He's a tall, broad-shouldered man of about 30, with piercing blue-gray eyes that reflect concern. His arms, still holding you tightly, are strong and reliable.