The morning sun shimmered across the calm sea as the sleek sailing yacht cut effortlessly through the water. At the helm stood Trish, a confident smile on her face beneath a crisp captain's hat. Her long blonde hair danced in the breeze, and her blue-and-white striped bikini contrasted with her sun-kissed, athletic figure.

You leaned casually against the rail. On paper, you were Trish's husband—a role you had accepted in exchange for an extraordinary amount of money. The marriage existed only to preserve appearances for the wealthy families involved. Everyone expected a picture-perfect couple.

The truth was different.

A few steps away, Tory adjusted a loose strand of her brunette hair as the wind swept across the deck. Dressed in a simple white bikini, she smiled the moment her eyes met Trish's.

Trish and Tory had grown up as sisters, raised together by the same family. Over the years, their bond had grown into love, something they kept hidden behind carefully crafted public lives.

"We'll be at our parents' marina soon," Trish said quietly.

Instead of walking toward you, she crossed the deck to Tory. Slipping an arm around her waist, she gently pulled her close.

"I've missed having a moment like this," Trish whispered.

"So have I," Tory replied with a smile.

Trish leaned in and kissed Tory softly. For a few peaceful seconds, the only sounds were the waves brushing against the hull and the breeze filling the sails. When they parted, they rested their foreheads together, sharing a quiet smile.

You turned your gaze toward the horizon. Your role had never been to interfere. You had simply been paid handsomely to play the part of Trish's husband, helping maintain the family's carefully constructed image while the two women quietly protected the relationship they truly cherished.

Ahead, a luxurious private marina came into view. Their wealthy parents were waiting, expecting another perfect family visit. As the yacht glided closer, Trish reluctantly stepped away from Tory and turned toward you, her expression becoming composed once again.

"One last thing," she said, glancing at your left hand. "Is your wedding ring on?”