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

My fianc handcrafted a diamond ring to propose underwater, on a deep-sea dive.

The moment we submerged, he shut off my air tank and kicked me toward the trench.

The water closed over me and every nerve rememberedthe river, the ice, the drowning I'd survived to save him years ago. My whole body locked.

I thrashed in blind panic, clawing toward the surface:

"Gregory help me, I'm cramping"

He never looked back. He swam toward the yacht and placed the velvet ring box into the hands of the woman on deck.

"Mr. Delgado, I can't believe you actually got her back for me."

"You won the bet. Tonight this yachtand Iam all yours."

Gregory pulled her into his arms.

"She threw cold water on you at the office yesterday. This is what she deserves."

I sank into the dark.

So the half-life I'd traded to save himthat was all it ever was.

A wager, to make another woman smile.

But when the propeller had finished with me and they dragged what was left from the water,

why couldn't he even hold on to that engagement ring?

The last thing I felt before everything went dark was cold.

Then something strange pulled my soul free of my body.

I drifted up through the surface and settled onto the yacht's deck, where jazz played softly under bright lights.

Joan Pruitt stood there in a barely-there bikini, her phone angled for the livestream.

"Greg, wasn't that a teensy bit much? The water she splashed on me yesterday barely even counted."

Delgado Corp's newest big-money signingtheir marine-sports brand ambassador.

Young and reckless, like a mermaid born to own the deep.

It was exactly that fearlessness, that raw vitality, that had drawn Gregory in.

Year by year, my gloom and frailty had worn him downthe wreckage a near-drowning leaves behind.

He tilted Joan's chin up with an indulgent squeeze.

"She splashed you, so she can stay out there and swallow the ocean."

"She needs a lesson. Walking around with 'fiance' stamped on her forehead like it makes her untouchable."

I hovered right in front of him, screaming uselessly into his face.

He knew about the aquaphobia. He knew my limbs would seize the second I went under.

And yesterday at the office, it was Joan who had deliberately knocked a cup of scalding coffee onto the design drafts I'd pulled all-nighters to finish.

I'd only thrown a cup of room-temperature water at her in the heat of the moment.

He wouldn't even listen to my side.

Instead, out here in open water, he'd shut off my air tank with his own handsall to make it up to her.

Joan's words set the livestream chat on fire.

His actual girlfriend bullying our Joanie at the office? Disgusting.

That's what you get for being a clingy little pick-me. Let her sit in the water and think about what she did.

Joanie kiss Mr. Delgado RIGHT NOW and let the old hag in the ocean choke on it!

Joan watched the gifts flooding her screen and tugged at the hem of Gregory's shirt, all sweetness.

"Greg, she's been in the water for a while now. She'll be okay, right? If someone actually dies, I'd be so scared"

Gregory let out a cold laugh. Something close to raw disgust passed through his eyes.

"Her personal best for holding her breath is three minutes. She's probably clinging to the ladder under the hull right now, playing dead."

"Forget her. Today's your twenty-fourth birthday."

"Unless she suffers a little, she'll never get how she's been making your life hell at work. I'm collecting every last bit of it today."

My soul trembled, beyond my control.

I was already dead. What more did he want me to suffer?

"Captain!"

Gregory turned abruptly and shouted toward the wheelhouse.

"Weigh anchor. Start the engineswe're going to find dolphins."

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

No. No, no, nomy 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 divecome 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 himdead 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 swearyou'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 againthrough the charm, through the shards, through everythingand 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.

I kept it at our bedside like something holier than my own pulsehandled it with bare fingertips, never let it touch anything rough.

Joan clapped a hand over her mouth, feigning wide-eyed innocence.

"Oh no, Greg, I'm so sorry I didn't see that ratty little pouch there. I think I might've gotten it dirty."

Gregory didn't even glance at the blessed protection charm on the floor.

His eyes were entirely occupied checking Joan for glass cuts.

"It's nothingjust some junk Joanna waves around for sympathy. It's broken, so what. You okay? Did you cut your feet?"

Once he'd confirmed Joan was unhurt, he called for the attendant.

"Sweep this garbage up and throw it overboard. Get rid of all these roses too. I don't want to look at them."

I sank to the floor, watching the broom drag away the last thing my mother ever left memerciless, like it was nothing.

Tears hit the ground without a sound.

Mom, I'm sorry. I couldn't protect what you gave me.

I'll be with you soon.

A piercing electronic alarm ripped through the cabin.

*Beep!*

The sound was coming from Gregory's phone, tossed carelessly on the sofa. The screen pulsed a harsh, strobing red.

**[WARNING: Priority contact "Joanna" heart rate has dropped to 0. All vital signs absent. Initiate emergency response immediately!]**

Gregory went rigid, his gaze locked on the red light flooding the screen.

The medical smartwatchhe'd forced me to wear it two years ago. His company had barely gotten off the ground back then, and he'd worried my condition might flare up at home with nobody there. He'd spent a fortune having it custom-made. The instant my heart stopped or the watch left my wrist, his phone would scream.

Joan had obviously seen the words on the screen too.

Her expression flickered, and in one smooth motion she pressed herself against him, hooking both hands around his arm.

Her lower lip pushed out in a wounded pout, eyes reddening on cue.

"Greg she's doing it again, isn't she? Trying to make you run back?"

She swayed against his arm, her voice carrying just the right tremor of hurt.

"She took it off, Greg. She threw it in the ocean to ruin my birthday."

"She *knows* what today means to meand she'd still rather fake her own death than let you be here with me."

The flicker of alarm and doubt that had surfaced in Gregory's eyes

the instant Joan's words landed, it curdled into irritation and disgust.

He scoffed, grabbed the phone, and held down the power button until the screen went black.

The shrieking alarm cut to silence.

"Cry wolf enough timesdoes she actually think I'll keep falling for it?"

Gregory tossed the dead phone aside, face hard.

"Ignore her. She wants to soak in the ocean and play the tragic heroine? Let her soak."

I hovered in midair and let out a broken, bitter laugh.

So my real, dying plea for help had only ever been, in his eyes, a petty jealous trick.

Last month I'd collapsed with an acute gastric perforation, writhing on the floor, cold sweat soaking through my clothes.

I used every ounce of strength I had to dial his number, begging him to come home and take me to the hospital.

His voice on the other end was flat:

"Joan cut her hand slicing fruit in the kitchen today. She's alone in a strange city and she's scared. I can't leave."

"Call yourself a car to the hospital, Joanna. Can you stop clinging to me like a helpless child for once?"

I passed out on the cold floor. I nearly died in that apartment.

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 feeda 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.

"Noyou 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 fiance.

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 itit'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, Gregit'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 hoveredreaching 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 lifeon 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 boatplease, 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. Delgadothat body is wearing the custom waterproof medical smartwatch you had made for your wife!"