I Booked My Own Sea Burial, But You Came Too Late

The water swallowed me in seconds. I gasped, but my breath got stuck as the freezing water closed around me. By the time I surfaced, Arkin had already turned away.

“I don’t care how you do it,” he said without looking back. “Get the ring.”

Then he grabbed Trixie’s hand and walked off.

Just like that.

No hesitation and no second glance.

The wind cut through the wet fabric clinging to my body, and the lake was half frozen, thin sheets of ice floating around me.

Even looking at it from above would’ve made anyone step back but I was already in it.

The mud at the bottom was sharp, broken pieces hidden under the surface, cutting into my feet every time I moved. I bit my lip and dove down.

Again.

And again.

And again.

The water blurred everything, and my body started to go numb, but I kept searching, hands moving through the dark, through the cold, through the pain that didn’t even feel sharp anymore.

Just empty.

Time passed, but I couldn’t tell how much.

Hours, maybe.

The sky shifted slowly toward morning at some point, my blood had spread into the water, faint red swirling around me every time I moved.

But I kept going, because I knew if I didn’t find it, it wouldn’t end here.

Finally, my fingers brushed against something small.

Cold metal.

The ring.

I held onto it like it was the only thing keeping me from sinking completely.

When I got out of the lake, I could barely feel my body anymore.

Everything hurt, but also didn’t.

I walked back, dripping, shaking, and found Arkin again.

I held the ring out to him. He glanced at me, frowning slightly, like my state was inconvenient.

Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out cash, and threw it at me.

Same as always.

No words that mattered.

No questions.

Just money. I picked it up quietly, one bill at a time, my hands still trembling.

Then I left.

Because that was all I was supposed to do.

…

For the next few days, Arkin didn’t make things harder for me. No orders, no humiliation, nothing, and it felt strange, too quiet, like something was waiting. I almost thought maybe he was done with me, maybe I could just save enough, finish the sea burial, and disappear. Was it really going to be that easy? I should’ve known better.

That day, when I got back and stepped out of the car, I saw it immediately. Thick smoke wrapping around the villa. My heart dropped. Arkin. The thought hit before anything else and I ran without thinking. He hated noise, hated people, so the staff only came when he wasn’t home, and these past few days he stayed inside. Which meant he was alone.

“Arkin!” I shouted, rushing in as the heat hit me. The fire had spread fast, but I knew the place well and pushed forward, coughing, until I reached his bedroom. He was there, collapsed on the bed, completely unconscious. The air was heavy with smoke, and the pills on the table told me enough.

“Arkin, wake up,” I said, shaking him, but he didn’t move. “Don’t do this… you can hate me all you want, just don’t die like this, okay?”

I dragged him up, forced him onto my back, and moved toward the door. Every step got heavier, the fire growing, the way out almost blocked. Heat pressed in, my breathing uneven, and then something cracked above me. A burning beam fell. I didn’t think, I just turned and covered him. Pain exploded through my back, my vision went white, and I almost collapsed.

But I didn’t.

I looked at him, still breathing, still alive, and something in me refused to give up.

“Just hold on,” I whispered. “You don’t get to leave like this. Not before me.”

I forced myself forward, step by step, through heat and smoke and pain, until somehow we made it out. We collapsed onto the lawn, cold air hitting my lungs as I coughed, my body shaking, everything hurting at once. I barely had strength, but I still pushed him away from me.

Trixie ran toward us. Of course she did. Always there when it mattered. I used the last of my strength and shoved Arkin toward her.

“Take him,” I said weakly. “When he wakes up… tell him you saved him. Just say it was you. Don’t tell him I was there.”

She froze, staring at me.

“What are you doing?” she asked, confused. “Why would you say that? Dahlia, what are you trying to prove now?”

I shook my head.

“Nothing,” I said. “I’m not trying to prove anything. I just… don’t need him to know.”

She grabbed my arm, her eyes narrowing.

“Then answer me,” she said. “Did you kill his father on purpose? Was it really you, just like everyone says?”

My body went still. For a second, everything came back, the truth, the lie, everything I carried. Would it even matter now? Would he believe me? Or just hate me more? What’s the point?

After a long pause, I gave the only answer that kept things simple.

“Yes.”

Her grip loosened. I walked away without looking back.

In the days after that, Trixie stayed by his side, taking care of him, never leaving. When he learned she “saved” him, everything shifted. He treated her better, softer, closer, like she mattered more than anyone. Maybe she always did.

At night, standing outside his door, I could hear them. Her laughter. His voice, low and gentle, the way it used to be with me. Words that weren’t mine anymore. I leaned against the wall, eyes closed, pretending I couldn’t hear it, pretending it didn’t matter.

Maybe he really did fall for her. Maybe this was how it was supposed to be.

Good. He should’ve had this life from the start.

I looked at my hands and let out a quiet breath. So this is it, huh? You really don’t belong anywhere anymore.

The wound on my back still burned from the fire, sharp with every movement, but I didn’t tell anyone. When no one was around, I’d quietly put medicine on it, teeth clenched, trying not to make a sound.

Because it didn’t matter.

I was already halfway gone anyway.

…

That day, as always, I stayed in the small room they gave me. It wasn’t really a room, just a space I didn’t belong in. I took off my coat, sat down, and was about to apply medicine on my back when the door suddenly slammed open.

Arkin’s mother.

Of course it was her.

Her eyes dropped straight to my back, to the burns I’d been hiding, and her expression shifted instantly, anger and fear colliding at once.

“What happened to your back? Those burns… Dahlia, what did you do?”

She stepped closer, unable to accept what she was seeing, then stopped right in front of me.

“Was it you?” she asked. “Did you save Arkin that day?”

I froze.