Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THAT NIGHT, WE danced.

Not at a ball.
Not at a formal gathering.

Just us.

She knocked on my cabin door. No words. Just a look. And her hand reaching out.

I took it.

She led me down a hallway, then another, then another, until we reached the empty ballroom—the one they hadn’t opened yet. The one that was still being polished for some gala two nights from now.

But tonight?
It was ours.

She moved to the center of the floor and extended her hand again.

“Mr. Johnson,” she said. “May I?”

I didn’t know how to waltz.

But my feet followed hers.
Like they always had.

We danced in silence.
No music. Just the creak of the ship and the rise and fall of the sea.

Her eyes didn’t leave mine.
Her smile didn’t fade.

Time didn’t move.

And if it did, we didn’t feel it.

When the moment broke, it wasn’t sudden. It was gentle. Natural. Like a song ending you didn’t want to stop, but knew had to.

She pulled me in close. Whispered—

“I think I’ve loved you before.”

And I whispered back—

“I know.”