Tabitha's POV
I barely slept through the long night, constantly on edge and filled with anxiety.
I feared Wilmot might burst through the door at any moment, yet I couldn't help but worry about what had happened to him.
While the entire ship was immersed in revelry, I guarded this small haven of tranquility alone.
I sat weakly on the floor, arms tightly wrapped around my knees, gazing helplessly at the cold, lonely moon outside the window.
It felt as if the whole world was left with just me and the moon for company.
My heart was a tangled mess, and my thoughts involuntarily drifted back to all the experiences along the way, feeling that my life was both absurd and ridiculous.
I continuously questioned in my heart, what did I do wrong to bear the pain of being separated from my children and living a life of constant hiding?
If the door were to be pushed open, what could I do?
The answer was cruelly helpless. I could do nothing.
The disparity in strength between us was vast. If he really wanted to force himself on me, I would have to endure it passively.
But for the sake of my children, I could never choose to take my own life. The only outcome would be to engrave this humiliating night deeply into my soul.
I felt as if I was trapped in an endless abyss of darkness, unable to escape no matter how hard I struggled.
All I yearned for was a plain and ordinary life, yet it ended so miserably.
After a night of unease, the sun finally rose, and the sea at sunrise was magnificent and grand.
I had just dozed off for half an hour when the warm sunlight fell on me, gently waking me from my slumber.
Instinctively, I raised my hand to shield my eyes from the dazzling light, but the next second, last night's events flooded back to me.
I instantly became alert, quickly grabbed the wine bottle beside me, and entered a defensive stance.
I looked at the door nervously, seeing the stool and table still tightly against it, showing no signs of being moved.
The world seemed to have been muted, silent and still, with no noise from outside.
"Mommy," Ayla sat up in bed, her soft hair was messy, a little tuft of hair standing up cutely, looking extremely adorable with sleepy eyes.
"Sweetheart, good morning," I forced a gentle smile and whispered.
Ayla gently touched her stomach and softly said, "I'm hungry."
Drinking milk powder every morning had become her habit. Wilmot prepared for her every day.
"Okay, I will get you some milk right away," I responded quickly.
"Wilmot," Ayla jumped off the bed barefoot, following me like a little shadow.
We had been staying in a suite for several days, and Ayla would run to Wilmot's room to play every morning.
Given our limited range of activities, I didn't stop her.
But at this moment, I wasn't clear about the situation outside, fearing that she might see something she shouldn't.
So, I quickly pulled her back and whispered, "You wait for me in the room. I will go find Wilmot. No peeking, okay?"
Ayla was really well-behaved. She didn't ask why, just nodded.
She would always listen to and follow what I said.
I slowly moved the furniture away from the door and stepped out cautiously.
The room was spotless, and even the bed was neatly made without a single wrinkle.
Clearly, he wasn't in the room.
I breathed a sigh of relief, guessing that he might have gone out to find a woman.
Thinking of this, the big stone that had been hanging in my heart finally fell to the ground, as long as he didn't have any ill intentions towards me.
Now, it seemed that those strange words he said last night were just under the influence of the drug, and I gradually stopped taking them to heart.
Soon after, there was a knock on the door.
I immediately became alert and cautiously opened it, only to find a strange man I had never seen before standing outside.
"Hello, are you Ms. Hartley? I'm here to bring you breakfast," he said.
Usually, Wilmot took care of these things, so my gaze towards him was clearly wary.
The man seemed to sense my doubts and quickly explained, "Ms. Hartley, don't worry. Wilmot sent me. You can call me Forrest."
"How is Wilmot?" I already knew that Wilmot seemed to have some connections on the ship, so it wasn't surprising that he knew people.
"He... he's a bit busy," Forrest stammered, seemingly unsure of how to answer my question.
"Thank you," I took the breakfast and closed the door, wondering to myself if the aftereffects of the drug were really that strong. A night passed, yet he still had not recovered.