“Fine,” I said.

The first 3 days of the cruise were a floating nightmare.

Beatrice complained about everything.

Not when the sunset hit the ocean.
Not when the captain hosted the gala dinner.
Not when the waiters brought the fresh lobster.

At every meal, she made a scene.

“This chicken is dry, Thomas,” she sighed, pushing her plate away. “And the entertainment is so loud. My head is splitting.”

“I’ll order you something else, Mom,” Thomas said. He immediately called the waiter over, ordering a filet mignon.

Then he turned to me.

“You should have checked the reviews for this cruise line, Linda. This is embarrassing.”

I looked at my plate.

The sea bass was perfectly cooked. I had paid for it. I paid for his mother’s ticket too, though I didn’t know it yet.

My jaw locked. I could hear my own pulse thumping against my eardrums.

I didn’t say a single word.

I just swallowed my apology.

On day 2, we sat at the buffet table.

“Look at the crowd here,” Beatrice sniffed, wiping her glasses. “It’s so low-class. Thomas, you should have made sure we were on a nicer liner.”

“We will make the best of it, Mom,” Thomas said, patting her hand.

To the rest of the passengers, Thomas looked like a saint. An older woman at the buffet table stopped us on day 3.

“Your husband is so sweet to take care of his mother,” she told me, smiling. “You are a very lucky woman.”

I smiled with my soul bleeding behind my teeth.

Thomas spent every day sitting on Beatrice’s balcony, drinking expensive cocktails. I was left to sit in the dark, windowless cabin, listening to the hum of the ship’s engines.

On the fourth morning, we docked in Cozumel, Mexico. The sun was bright, reflecting off the white sand and the turquoise water.

Thomas and Beatrice went ahead to the pool deck. I stayed behind to find my sunglasses in our cabin.

While searching, I saw Thomas’s phone charging on the bedside table. It vibrated with a bank notification.

I picked it up. The screen was unlocked.