He Kicked Me Into the Deep for Another Woman's Smile

Gregory turned abruptly and shouted toward the wheelhouse.

"Weigh anchor. Start the engines—we're going to find dolphins."

I lunged at him, hands outstretched, screaming without sound.

No. No, no, no—my body was still directly beneath the hull.

One turn of that propeller and there'd be nothing left of me to find.

The yacht's massive engines roared to life, and the hull began cutting through the waves.

A tremendous force seized me, dragging me along at Gregory's side whether I wanted to follow or not.

Sea wind swept across the deck, carrying the faint chill of deep night.

Joan hunched her shoulders and gave a dainty, performative little shiver.

Gregory immediately stripped off his jacket and wrapped it snugly around her.

"It's too cold out here. You just came up from a dive—come on, inside. Now."

I stood beside them, watching him shelter her the way you'd shelter something irreplaceable.

It felt like the ocean floor crushing my chest all over again.

Ten years ago, Gregory had been in a catastrophic car accident. The vehicle went off the bridge and plunged into the freezing river below.

It was me who jumped in after him—dead of winter, below zero, without a second thought.

I smashed through the car window with hands already torn and bleeding from the cold, and I locked my fingers around his collar and refused to let go.

Two full hours in that water before I dragged him back from the edge of death.

The price was a fear of water so severe I couldn't stand near a bathtub, and a body that would never tolerate cold again.

Every winter, the ache sank so deep it felt like it lived inside my bones.

Back then, Gregory had knelt beside my hospital bed, eyes red-rimmed, and sworn to me:

"Jo, from now on my life belongs to you."

"I swear—you'll never feel cold again. Not ever. I'll warm you with my own life if I have to."

But seven years of climbing the corporate ladder and living in comfort had long since erased my half-a-life sacrifice from his memory.

When my period cramps had me curled in a ball, drenched in cold sweat, he was on his feed posting photos with Joan under the Northern Lights.

When a severe cold pushed my fever to a hundred and four and I begged him, just once, to bring me a glass of hot water, he told me my coughing was too loud, and slammed the door on his way out.

Once, drunk with his friends, he'd complained that I was like a withered corpse, that all I ever did was chain him with old debts of gratitude.

But he'd forgotten that I was once the kind of girl who dove into winter rivers without flinching.

Gregory guided Joan through the door of the yacht's master cabin, his arm around her shoulders.

The instant the lights came on, Joan stopped dead in her tracks.

The cabin was filled with champagne roses I'd arranged by hand. Our photos from the past ten years lined the walls.

I'd done all of this last week, forcing myself onto the water despite my terror, vomiting again and again before I finished.

"Wow, Greg, this is so beautifully decorated…"

Joan bit her lower lip, her voice dripping with acid sweetness.

"Poor Joanna really did pull out all the stops to get that ring, didn't she."

Gregory frowned. He looked at the room full of roses, and a flicker of irritation crossed his eyes.

"Pathetic. She was only ever performing for herself."

Joan's gaze darted sideways. She pretended to stumble, pitching straight toward the nightstand.

*Crash.*

The delicate glass dome sitting at the center of the nightstand shattered into pieces.

Inside, the faded blessed protection charm was pierced and shredded by the shards.

"No—!"

I hurled myself forward, hands clawing for it.

But my fingers passed through the broken glass again and again—through the charm, through the shards, through everything—and closed on nothing.

My mother had gotten that charm for me. She'd climbed the steps to a pilgrimage chapel on her hands and knees, crawling and kowtowing with every step, her body already hollowed out by cancer in her final days.

When I went into that river, I'd clenched it between my teeth, and it was the only thing that kept the last breath in my lungs long enough to drag Gregory to shore.