Chapter 4

CHAPTER

FOUR

Andrew

I lean in closer, the scent of Sandy's perfume mingling with the salty sea air. Her green eyes sparkle with that same adventurous gleam I fell for the first day we met aboard Sea Serenade.

My fingers trace the outline of her jaw, and she leans into my touch, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

"Andrew," she whispers, her voice carrying the promise of uncharted waters.

Just as our lips are about to meet, the sharp click of high heels on the deck interrupts us. We pull apart like guilty teens caught by the headmaster.

Sandy's mother, Veronica, stands there with her husband, James, both wearing expressions as stiff as their designer clothes.

"Mother, Father, what a surprise," Sandy says, her voice tightening like a ship's rigging in a storm.

"Indeed," Veronica's eyes sweep over me, cold as the deep blue depths I navigate. "We didn't expect to find you entertaining...the help."

"Andrew is not just 'the help.' He's the captain," Sandy retorts, but her parents aren't buying it.

James steps forward, his gaze drilling into me. "It's time to go, Sandy."

Their words slice through me like a hull through the waves, and I fight to keep my composure. I'm just the guy who sails their kind around, the skipper in a neat little uniform, not the arm candy they want for their heiress daughter.

But damn it, when I look at Sandy, I see more than the fancy dresses and gala invitations. I see the woman who laughs at my crappy jokes, whose passion for the sea rivals my own. She's my port in every storm, my north star guiding me home.

I don't say anything. I'm not going to disrespect her parents.

No matter how much they've disrespected me.

They think I'm just a passing fancy, a temporary anchor before Sandy sails back to her world of privilege.

But they don't know how deeply we're anchored to each other.

"Come, Sandra. We're leaving," Veronica commands, but Sandy doesn't move.

She hesisates, but I give her hand a gentle squeeze.

I'm not going to make her choose between her parents and me.

Not yet.

She gives me a pained, uncertain look, but I reassure her it's okay with a smile.

Sandy bites her lip, torn, looking from her parents to me. Her eyes are wild seas of turmoil. Finally, she nods slowly at her parents but her hand tightens around mine, a silent plea.

"You go ahead. I'll...catch up," she stammers, the rebellion in her voice subtle but unmistakable.

Veronica's mouth twists into a scornful line. "We will be waiting in the car. Ten minutes, no more." They turn stiffly and leave, their disdain hanging in the air like a thick fog.

Once they're out of sight, Sandy turns to me, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I'm sorry, Andrew. I hate that you have to see this."

I pull her close, wrapping my arms around her slender frame. "Don't be sorry for who you are, Sandy. Besides," I say as I lean back to look into her eyes, "the view from here is spectacular."

She chuckles wetly, a sound mixed with relief and lingering sadness. "Only you could make me laugh at a time like this."

Our moment is fleeting. We both know it. Soon she has to go back to that pristine world where I barely fit the mold.

My insecurities gnaw at me—the sharp suitors waiting to take my place, those polished stones ready to be slotted into the perfect setting of Sandy's life.

But screw that.

"I don't care what your parents think," I whisper fiercely, "I'm not letting you go without a fight."

Sandy pulls back slightly and stares into my eyes. "You mean that? Even...even with everything?"

"Every damn word," I assure her. My voice is low but determined. "I'm here for the long haul. You're mine."

A small smile dances on her lips as she leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss on my cheek—it feels like a vow.

"Wait for me?" she asks softly.

"Forever if I have to," I reply without hesitation.

With one last deep breath and a decisive nod, she walks away, leaving me alone on the deck. The yacht sways gently under me as if understanding my tumultuous emotions—love battling the tidal waves of societal expectations.

As Sandy's figure diminishes towards the pier where her parents wait like two ominous shadows, my resolve firms up like setting sail against gale-force winds. Veronica and James might see me as an unworthy sailor in their daughter's elite world.

But I know different.

I might not be good enough for Sandy, but by some miracle she wants me.

So, I'm going to be there for her.