Chapter 8: Among the Elites

I spent nearly twenty minutes staring at the clothes hanging inside my closet.

Not that there were many options to begin with.

Most of the things I had brought from the Evans mansion were simple dresses and casual outfits. None of them looked suitable for a yacht party attended by New York's elite. The thought alone made my stomach twist into knots.

I pulled out a cream-colored dress and held it against myself before immediately putting it back. Too plain.

The blue one looks too old, and the black one looks too formal.

With a frustrated sigh, I sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed my temples. Ever since waking up that morning, I had been unable to focus on anything. My mind kept drifting back to the hospital.

Mom.

I hadn't seen her since the wedding. I had barely slept last night because of it.

Victoria promised she would settle the remaining hospital bills once the marriage was completed. It was the entire reason I agreed to sacrifice my freedom and marry a man I barely knew.

But what if she lied?

The thought had been haunting me since yesterday. I grabbed my phone and checked it again. I felt a deep disappointment when I realized there was no missed calls or even a single message. Nothing. 

My anxiety only grew and became more worried that Victoria might not do what she promised.

"Are you planning to spend the entire day in there?" A deep voice made me almost jump from where I was sitting.

Nathaniel leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Some people knock because they're asking permission to enter." I said sarcastically.

"I don't need to ask permission to do whatever I want inside my house." A grin tugged at his lips. 

I quickly stood up and reached for the black dress hanging nearby.

"Please leave. I'll get ready," I briefly said, but he acted like he heard nothing.

Nathaniel's gaze briefly landed on the dress in my hands before returning to my face.

"Wear that one," he said.

I frowned.

"This looks too formal," I complained. Although the dress looks beautiful, I am not even sure if it suits me.

"It suits you," he simply said and left.

My fingers tightened around the fabric. For some reason, the simple compliment caught me off guard. 

I stared at the doorway for a moment before shaking my head. I must not overthink things.

Half an hour later, we were on our way to the marina.

The drive felt strangely quiet.

Nathaniel focused on the road while I sat beside him, absentmindedly staring through the passenger window. Buildings passed by in a blur, but I barely noticed any of them.

My thoughts remained fixed on Mom. After all that's happened, I was kept worried about her situation right now. I wondered how was her surgery, and if Victoria fulfilled her promise and paid the balance.

Everything felt so fragile. As though one wrong move could destroy the tiny bit of hope I had left.

"Do you really do that often?" I blinked and turned toward Nathaniel.

"Doing what?"

"Thinking too much." He answered without taking his eyes off the road.

I rolled my eyes.

"And you just assumed that because I was looking outside?"

"You've been staring at the same building for two traffic lights."

Heat crept up my neck. Had I really?

Nathaniel chuckled softly.

"Whatever's bothering you, it can't be solved by glaring at random buildings."

"If only life were that simple."

For a brief second, neither of us spoke. Then the marina came into view, and every other thought immediately disappeared.

The yacht was enormous.

No amount of preparation could have prepared me for the sight of it.

The massive white vessel stretched across the dock like a floating luxury hotel. Elegant guests stepped aboard while waiters welcomed them with champagne and polished smiles.

I suddenly felt underdressed. What was that word again? Underqualified. Yes. I felt underqualified. I mean, aside from being Nathaniel's wife, what am I?

I feel completely out of place.

Nathaniel parked the car and stepped out before walking around to my side. When he opened the door, I still hadn't moved.

He raised an eyebrow. "If you didn't want to come, you could've said no. Don't waste my time."

I looked at the yacht, then at him. Then back at the yacht.

"I feel like I don't belong," I said under my breath. 

"Unfortunately for you, you're my wife. And it's your duty to attend to these events with me." Hearing how serious he is, I felt like I had no choice left and just stepped out of the vehicle.

The moment we boarded the yacht, I felt eyes following me. At first, I thought I was imagining it.

Then I started hearing the whispers.

"They're here."

"That's Nathaniel Montague."

"The woman beside him must be his wife."

"Wasn't Camilla Evans supposed to marry him?"

"I heard she's the illegitimate daughter."

My stomach tightened. Of course they knew. People like these always knew everything.

Nathaniel seemed completely unbothered by the attention. Several businessmen approached him almost immediately, greeting him as though they had known each other for years.

Within minutes, he was engaged in conversation, leaving me standing awkwardly beside him.

A woman suddenly appeared at my side.

She looked to be around my age, dressed in an expensive designer gown that probably cost more than my annual salary.

"Paige Evans, right?"

Her smile looked friendly enough. Or so I thought.

"Yes."

"It's nice to finally meet you." I can see her gums with her big smile and bright teeth.

Something about her tone felt off. Before I could respond, two other women joined her.

One glanced at me from head to toe. "So it's true."

I frowned.

"What is?"

"That Nathaniel actually married you." The other woman said.

The three women exchanged amused looks. I already hated where this conversation was going.

"I don't know why everyone seems so surprised," I said.

One of them laughed. "Because nobody expected Nathaniel Montague to marry a waitress."

There it was. The insult. I wondered how long she had been waiting to say it.

The woman beside her quickly added, "Oh, don't misunderstand. There's nothing wrong with honest work."

"Yeah, sure. And sharks were vegetarian," I whispered.

"What are you even murmuring?" the one with the big smile asked, with her brows lifted.

"Oh, nothing! I am just amazed with the place." I said and faked a smile.

"Of course, you do! I bet it's your first time," she said and they laughed.

Another woman tilted her head.

"Whatever. What did you study in college?" she drifted the topic. 

I swallowed. I know they are just doing this for amusement.

"I didn't finish."

The smiles around me widened.

"And before the marriage, you worked at a café?"

I nodded.

More amusement for them. More judgment.

The familiar feeling settled inside my chest. The same feeling I experienced every time Victoria reminded me where I belonged. The same feeling I felt every time Camilla received something I never could.

But unlike before, I wasn't a little girl anymore.

I refused to let them humiliate me.

"Yes," I said calmly. "I worked as a waitress. Like you said earlier, there's nothing wrong with an honest work." Silence followed.

Perhaps they expected embarrassment, or maybe even shame. Unfortunately for them, I had neither.

The woman blinked.

"You don't seem bothered by that."

I smiled.

"Should I be?"

Their expressions immediately stiffened. Before anyone could continue, my phone suddenly vibrated inside my purse. Relieved by the interruption, I quickly pulled it out.

The moment I saw the hospital's number, my heart nearly stopped.

"Hello?"

"Miss Evans?"

The doctor's voice came through the line.

"Yes?"

There was a brief pause, then he spoke.

"Your mother regained consciousness this morning."

Hearing those words from the doctor, the world stopped. For a second, I genuinely thought I had heard wrong.

My grip on the phone tightened.

"What?"

"She's awake. In fact, she's been asking for you."

Tears instantly burned behind my eyes. My Mom was awake.

"I'll come right away."

The doctor agreed before ending the call.

I quickly ran out of the yatch. I did not even bother telling Nate. He was so busy taking to other people, and I am just too embarrassed to butt in. 

I glanced back one last time and caught Nathaniel watching me from across the deck. Our eyes met briefly, but he made no move to stop me. Then again, why would he? I was only there because I had to be—another obligation tied to our marriage, another role I was expected to fulfill as his wife. If anything, he probably felt relieved to see me leave. After all, it wasn't as though he was happy about ending up with me as his bride.