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

A neighbor was the one who finally called the ambulance.

When I woke up in the ICU, the first thing I saw was a post on his feed—a photo of Joan's finger with a Band-Aid on it.

*Silly girl. Stay out of the kitchen. I'll take care of you from now on.*

"Mr. Delgado!"

The helmsman rushed over and knocked on the door, pulling me out of the memory.

He stood in the doorway, visibly tense.

"Mr. Delgado, sonar's picking up something big tangled near the propeller. It's dragging hard."

"Should we stop the boat and send a diver down to check?"

The moment Joan heard the word *stop*, she stamped her foot, voice pitching into a whine.

"No—you can't stop the boat during my birthday party, that's horrible luck!"

"Greg, come on, let's go see the dolphins before it's too late!"

Gregory didn't spare a thought for the safety warning. Anything to keep her smiling. He waved a hand.

"Don't stop. Full throttle. Whatever junk got caught down there, grind it up and blow through. Joanie's not missing her dolphins."

The helmsman had no choice. He nodded and left.

I squeezed my eyes shut, and every part of me that was left shook with it.

He didn't know. The mass being dragged inch by inch into the propeller's crushing pull—

—was the woman he'd been with for ten years. His fiancée.

Inside the cabin, Joan thanked her viewers and ended the livestream.

She couldn't wait to open the velvet box Gregory had just given her. The moment she lifted the lid, her breath caught.

Nestled inside was a five-carat pink diamond, blazing with light.

Years ago, I'd gone behind my parents' backs and sold the only house our family owned, sinking every last cent into Gregory's startup.

After I stood beside him through the three hardest years of building his company, he'd bid a fortune at Sotheby's for the raw stone.

He said he would cut it into a proposal ring and slide it onto my finger himself.

He spent a full month on the design sketches alone, polishing this ring into everything our ten years together had meant.

I lunged for the box, desperate, clawing at nothing.

"Don't touch it—it's mine! Get your filthy hands off it!"

But I was only a ghost. Powerless.

All I could do was watch Joan lift the ring out as if it were nothing.

"Oh my God, Greg—it's gorgeous! Is this the big surprise you had planned for me?"

Joan's eyes glittered.

Gregory looked at the ring. His jaw tightened, and for a split second his hand hovered—reaching to take it back.

"Joanie, this… it probably won't fit you. The size is wrong. I'll get you something better next time—"

"What do you mean it won't fit? It's like it was made for me!"

Joan gave him no chance to take it back. She forced the diamond onto her ring finger.

The band was clearly a size too small, biting into her skin hard enough to leave a red welt.

She didn't care. She laughed, giddy and preening, like a queen staking her claim.

She hooked her arms around Gregory's neck, rose on her toes, and shoved him backward onto the bed.

"Greg, I'm keeping this ring. And tonight, I'll give you myself as a return gift. How does that sound?"

Bile clawed up my throat, and the humiliation hit so hard my vision went white.

I had imagined it so many times.

In this cabin I'd decorated with my own hands, Gregory on one knee, sliding this ring onto my finger on this very bed.

But now he had pushed me into the deep and ground the life I'd saved beneath his heel.

And now he was going to take the woman who destroyed my life—on my bridal bed, wearing a ring engraved with my name.

Gregory's breathing grew heavier.

He looked down at Joan beneath him, all soft curves and parted lips, and let go of the last thread of restraint he'd been pretending to hold.

"Joanie… you drive me out of my mind."

His voice was hoarse. He lowered his head and kissed Joan's lips, his broad palm sliding beneath the hem of her clothes.

The two of them tangled together, their breathy moans sickening to hear.

The instant Joan's hand reached Gregory's belt buckle—

Bang.

The cabin's wooden door was kicked open.

Gregory's chief assistant of ten years came half-crawling, half-falling through the doorway.

"Mr. Delgado! Stop the boat—please, give the order to stop the boat!"

Gregory's head snapped up, face contorted with rage at the interruption.

"Have you lost your mind? Who told you to barge in here?"

Brent was on his knees, banging his forehead against the floor.

"The coast guard just forced the yacht to a stop."

"They pulled a woman's body from under our propeller. Mangled beyond recognition."

Gregory cut him off, irritated.

"So they fished out a corpse. Call the police. What does that have to do with me?"

Brent's head snapped up. His bloodshot eyes locked onto Gregory's face.

"But Mr. Delgado—that body is wearing the custom waterproof medical smartwatch you had made for your wife!"