After His Fiancée Tried to Drown Me

The cream-colored envelope arrived on a Tuesday morning, slipped under my apartment door like a small, elegant thief. I picked it up from the floor, my fingers brushing against the heavy paper stock, and immediately recognized the Hunt family's embossed crest in the corner. My heart did that familiar, painful skip it always did when anything connected to Maddox crossed my path.

I sat at my kitchen counter, coffee cooling beside me, turning the envelope over in my hands. The formal invitation inside was written in calligraphy I didn't need to read to understand. Maddox Hunt's engagement party. Aboard his family's yacht in the Hamptons. This weekend.

I pressed my fingertips together, a habit I'd developed as a child when trying to hold myself together. Eight years of loving him in silence, of being his closest friend but never quite his love, had led to this moment. He was finally, officially, irrevocably moving on. With someone else.

'RSVP by Thursday,' the card read. As if there was any question.

I wrote my acceptance in careful script, sealed the envelope, and set it aside to mail. Of course I would go. I had always said yes to Maddox. Even now, even this.

* * *

The yacht gleamed white against the darkening sky, its name – 'Fortuna' – illuminated in soft lights that reflected off the water. I handed my invitation to the attendant at the gangway, who checked my name against a list and nodded me aboard with a practiced smile. The deck was already alive with champagne flutes and conversation, the kind of effortless wealth that had always surrounded Maddox like an aura.

I smoothed down the navy dress I'd chosen – elegant but understated, the kind of thing that wouldn't draw attention but would ensure I fit in. I didn't want to be remembered for this night. I just wanted to exist within it, to witness what I had always known was coming but had never had to face so directly.

'Maddox!' someone called out, and my eyes found him automatically, the way they always had.

He stood near the bow, one hand resting on the polished railing, the other holding a crystal tumbler. He wore a light gray suit that caught the evening light, and he was laughing – that rich, confident laugh that had once been reserved for our private jokes. Now it belonged to his colleagues, his family, and most of all, to the woman beside him.

Rylie Torres. I'd seen her in photographs, heard her name whispered among our mutual friends. She was everything I wasn't – bold, socially graceful, unafraid to claim her space in the world. She wore a silver dress that caught the light with every movement, her dark hair swept up to reveal the elegant line of her neck. She leaned toward Maddox with the easy intimacy of someone who belonged there.

I moved through the crowd like a ghost, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing server and using it as a shield. People nodded at me, some with recognition, some with polite curiosity. I was the childhood friend, the one who had known Maddox since we were kids. I was the one who had always been there, in the background, watching.

'Jasmine!' A voice I recognized – Patrick Mia, another friend from our shared social circle. 'I didn't know you were coming.'

'I wouldn't miss it,' I said, the lie sliding out smoothly after years of practice.

Patrick's eyes held a question he didn't ask, a pity I didn't want to see. He knew, or thought he knew, what this meant to me. The difference was that tonight, for the first time, I knew it too.

I watched Maddox across the deck, the way he gestured when he talked, the way he threw his head back when something amused him. I had memorized these things over the years, collected them like precious stones. But watching him now, seeing him fully in his element, I realized how completely I had never belonged to this world. I had been a visitor, always.

Rylie's hand found his arm, her diamond engagement ring catching the light. She whispered something in his ear, and he smiled – not the polite smile he offered to others, but the one that reached his eyes and softened his face. The one I had spent eight years hoping would be mine.

I set my untouched champagne on a passing tray and made my way toward the upper deck, needing air, needing distance. The night was cool, the ocean breeze carrying the salt tang that had always reminded me of that other night, years ago, when I had nearly drowned and Maddox had been there. Or so I had believed.

'Jasmine.'

Rylie's voice came from behind me, smooth and controlled. I turned to find her ascending the stairs, another glass of champagne in her hand. Her smile was perfect, practiced, and utterly without warmth.

'I'm so glad you could make it,' she said, coming to stand beside me at the railing. 'Maddox mentioned you might not be able to come.'

'It's important to support your friends,' I replied, keeping my voice neutral.

She nodded, her dark eyes studying my face with an intensity that made my skin prickle. 'Yes. Friends are important. Though some friendships... well, they have a way of evolving, don't they?'

She took a delicate sip of her champagne. 'I think it would be a kindness to everyone involved if you understood that Maddox has moved on. We're building a life together, and... well, it's time for you to do the same.'

The words hung in the air between us, clear and cutting. I opened my mouth to respond, but she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper.

'He doesn't need you anymore, Jasmine.'

And then, before I could process what was happening, her hand was on my back – a sharp, deliberate push. The world tilted. The railing disappeared from beneath my grip.

And then there was only the cold, enveloping dark of the Atlantic Ocean, pulling me under.