The Captain's Secret Baby

Chapter 2: Meeting Him Again

Avery's Point of View

The wedding venue looked every bit as breathtaking as my mother had described.

Golden chandeliers bathed the grand ballroom in a warm glow, their light dancing across polished marble floors and towering floral arrangements of white roses and orchids. Soft classical music drifted through the room while elegantly dressed guests mingled with champagne in hand, their laughter blending seamlessly into the celebration.

It was beautiful. Exactly the kind of wedding my mother had always dreamed of. For years, she'd devoted herself to raising me alone, sacrificing more than I ever realized until I became a mother myself. If anyone deserved a second chance at happiness, it was her.

That was why I was here. Not for the city. Not for the memories. Certainly not for him.

I was here because I wanted to see my mother smile on one of the happiest days of her life.

The moment she spotted me near the entrance, her face lit up.

"There you are." She hurried over, gathering the skirt of her wedding gown with one hand before wrapping me in a careful embrace.

"I was worried you got lost."

"I've only been away for four years," I teased gently. "I still remember how to read a map."

She laughed, the sound light and genuine. "I've missed hearing you joke."

I smiled, though the ache in my chest remained. "You look beautiful, Mom."

Her eyes shimmered. "Do you really think so?"

"I've never seen you happier."

She reached for my hands and squeezed them affectionately. "Thank you for coming home, sweetheart. I know how difficult this trip was for you."

"It wasn't easy," I admitted honestly, "but I wouldn't have missed your wedding for anything."

She nodded before glancing toward the growing crowd of guests. "There are so many people I want you to meet. Everyone has been asking about my brilliant daughter in London."

Before I could object, she gently led me across the ballroom. Proudly. "This is my daughter, Avery Sinclair," she introduced. "She's a pediatrician."

Several guests greeted me warmly.

"A doctor? Your mother must be so proud. You've accomplished so much."

“It must be exciting living in London. Are you married?”

I thanked each of them politely, answering the usual questions with practiced ease.

Yes, I still lived in London.

Yes, I loved my work.

No, I wasn't married.

That final answer seemed to spark more curiosity than anything else.

One elegantly dressed woman tilted her head slightly. "I remember you from years ago."

I smiled politely. "I'm surprised."

"Oh, everyone remembered you." Her smile never quite reached her eyes. "You and Rhett Kane were the golden couple."

The name settled over the small group like a heavy silence. Another woman chuckled softly. "I still remember seeing the two of you in the society pages."

"Weren't they together for years?"

"I honestly thought they'd end up married." Someone else lowered her voice, though not enough to keep me from hearing. "Then she suddenly disappeared. I heard she left because he cheated."

"No," another replied. "I heard she couldn't handle his starting fame."

"I heard there was another woman."

Their words came one after another, each rumor more distorted than the last. I kept my smile firmly in place even as my fingers tightened around the stem of my champagne glass.

People always believed the version of the story they found most entertaining. The truth rarely mattered. Fortunately, my mother was called away by one of the wedding coordinators before she could hear any of it.

"It must have been difficult watching your ex become one of the country's most eligible bachelors."

"I'm sure Dr. Sinclair has moved on," another woman replied, though amusement sparkled in her eyes.

"I certainly hope so. Rhett and his fiancée have become quite the talk of the city."

My heart skipped.

Fiancée.

Although I'd seen enough gossip online to suspect they were serious, hearing the word spoken aloud still stung far more than I wanted to admit. I inhaled slowly, refusing to let them see how deeply those words cut.

Just then, someone brushed roughly against my shoulder.

The movement was so sudden that I barely had time to react before an entire glass of red wine splashed across the front of my emerald gown.

A collective gasp rippled through the ballroom.

Dark crimson spread rapidly over the expensive silk, staining the bodice and flowing down the skirt like spilled blood.

"My goodness!" the woman holding the empty glass exclaimed, though the smile tugging at the corner of her lips suggested she wasn't sorry in the slightest. "How terribly clumsy of me."

The surrounding guests stared openly. Some whispered. Others simply watched. Heat rushed to my face as humiliation settled heavily in my chest.

"It's only a dress," I said quietly, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing me lose my composure. "Accidents happen."

She smiled sweetly. "Of course they do."

Everything about her expression told me it hadn't been an accident at all. I lowered my eyes to the spreading stain and silently wondered how much more humiliating this evening could possibly become.

Then a deep, familiar voice spoke from somewhere behind me.

"It seems four years haven't changed your luck."

The glass slipped from my fingers.

I knew that voice. Even after four years...

I would have recognized it anywhere.

I closed my eyes for the briefest moment before turning around.

Rhett Kane stood only a few feet away.

For an instant, the ballroom, the music, and the voices around us faded into nothing.

Four years had changed him.

The carefree young man I had once loved had been replaced by someone sharper, more commanding. His tailored black tuxedo fit his broad frame perfectly, accentuating shoulders that had grown even stronger over the years. His dark hair was neatly styled, and the confidence he carried was unmistakable. Everywhere he stood, people instinctively made room for him.

Success had transformed him. Or perhaps it had only revealed the man he had always been destined to become.

His eyes met mine and everything inside me stopped.

I had imagined this moment a thousand different ways over the past four years. Sometimes he hated me. Sometimes he ignored me. Sometimes he begged me to come back.

None of those fantasies prepared me for the way he was looking at me now. His expression was unreadable. As though he couldn't quite believe I was standing in front of him.

Neither of us spoke. The silence stretched between us until it became almost unbearable. Finally, his gaze dropped to the dark stain spreading across my dress.

Without asking permission, he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a neatly folded white handkerchief.

He stepped closer. Far too close.

My pulse quickened as he gently pressed the cloth against the wine staining my shoulder.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Helping you."

"You don't have to."

"I know."

His answer was quiet, but it carried years of bitterness.

I instinctively reached for the handkerchief, intending to take it from him, but our fingers brushed.

A spark shot through me. My breath caught before I could stop it.

His hand paused. For the first time since he'd approached me, the corners of his mouth lifted into the faintest smile.

"There it is," he murmured.

I frowned. "What?"

"The same look." His eyes searched mine as though he were trying to remember someone he'd lost. "You always stopped breathing whenever I stood this close."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced a bright, perfectly relaxed smile to my face. I needed to look unbothered. I needed him to think I was entirely fine.

"That was a long time ago, Rhett," I said, my voice remarkably steady as I stepped back, breaking the contact. "We were practically children. A lot changes in four years."

His hand hovered in the air for a second before dropping to his side. The warmth vanished from his eyes, replaced by a sudden, rigid tension. "Does it?"

"Of course it does," I lied smoothly, offering a casual, cheerful shrug despite the way my chest was fracturing. "I've completely moved on. I have a wonderful new life in London, my career is thriving, and honestly... I’ve never been happier. It's amazing how a change of scenery puts the past into perspective."

A cold, bitter laugh escaped him. He took a deliberate step back, his gaze sweeping over me with a newfound harshness. "Moved on," he repeated, his jaw flexing. "Just like that. I suppose disappearing for four years didn't teach you any manners, but it certainly perfected your ability to forget."

The bite in his voice stung, but I kept my polite, detached mask firmly locked in place. Let him think I didn't care. It was safer that way.

"I don't owe you an explanation."

"No?" His eyes hardened into ice. "I spent months looking for you."

Every nerve in my body froze. I was just so glad I didn't bring Jasmine with me.

"You changed your number."

"I had to."

"You vanished."

"I had my reasons."

"Good." His voice was suddenly devoid of emotion. "I stopped looking eventually."

The lie hurt more than if he'd admitted he still cared.

"I'm really glad to hear that," I replied, tilting my head with an easy, dismissive smile. "Holding onto the past is exhausting, isn't it? I genuinely wish you nothing but the best, Rhett. You deserve to be happy."

His eyes locked onto mine, burning with a deep, volatile resentment. He looked at me as if I were a complete stranger—a fickle, heartless woman who had casually tossed away years of history without a single regret. I could see the exact moment his hurt curdled into something much darker.

"When you left..." His voice dropped low enough that only I could hear. "...did you ever look back?"

My throat tightened. Every answer I wanted to give remained trapped behind the secret I'd protected for four years.

Yes, I looked back every single day. I looked back while throwing up alone during my first trimester. I looked back while listening to my daughter's heartbeat for the first time. I looked back every time Jasmine laughed with the same crooked smile that belonged to him.

But I couldn't tell him any of that.

"I made my choice," I answered quietly.

His gaze darkened. "So did I."

Before I could ask what he meant, a feminine voice interrupted. "Rhett?"

A tall, elegant woman approached with effortless confidence, her champagne-colored gown shimmering beneath the ballroom lights. She slipped her hand naturally through his arm before turning her attention to me.

Her smile was flawless. Practiced. Beautiful.

"So this is Avery."

My stomach dropped. Vanessa.

Even after all these years, she was every bit as stunning as the magazines claimed. She glanced at the wine stain covering my dress before looking back at me with carefully disguised sympathy.

"Oh dear. What happened?"

"An accident," I answered evenly.

"How unfortunate." She slipped the silk shawl from around her shoulders and held it toward me. "Here. You should cover yourself before more people notice."

The words sounded thoughtful. Kind, even. But the meaning behind them landed like another slap.

I hesitated before accepting it. "Thank you."

She smiled sweetly. "Anything for my fiance's old friend."

Old friend. Not the woman Rhett had once promised forever to. Not the woman who had loved him enough to build her entire future around him.

Just… An old friend.

Vanessa looked up at Rhett, her expression softening immediately. "The photographer is looking for us."

For us. Two simple words. One unmistakable message. She belonged at his side now.

Not me.

"You two should go," I chimed in, forcing a warm, radiant smile as I looked between them. "Congratulations on the engagement, by the way. I've seen the news online. I truly wish you both a lifetime of absolute happiness."

Rhett’s arm went rigid under Vanessa's touch. The look he directed at me wasn't just cold anymore—it was laced with pure, unadulterated malice. My superficial well-wishes had clearly cemented his belief that I was utterly remorseless.

Instead of saying a word to me, Rhett remained silent. His eyes lingered on me for one final, devastating moment before he offered Vanessa his arm and turned his back on me completely.

My heart broke all over again. Perhaps I had been right four years ago. Perhaps he really had chosen her.

And perhaps coming back to this city had been the biggest mistake of my life.