Chapter 1; He Swam Right Past Me
Cielo POV.
The sun hung lower now, painting the sky in deep shades of orange and soft purple—it was exactly five in the evening—casting long, stretched shadows across the sprawling grounds of the Devince mansion. But none of that warm, golden light seemed to reach where I stood, hidden behind the tall, blooming hedges lining the garden. My gaze was locked on the two figures near the wide stone terrace—Lance, my boyfriend of two years, and Margaret Moor, his best friend who’d just flown in from abroad a few hours ago. Today was supposed to be perfect. Today was our anniversary.
Earlier this morning, Lance had called me, his voice warm and excited, saying he had something special planned. I’d been bursting with happiness all day, my heart fluttering every time I thought about what I’d decided to do. For two whole years, I’d guarded this part of myself, kept my virginity safe, because I wasn’t sure back then if he was truly the one. I’d waited, watched, and loved him through every moment, every quiet day and sweet memory. And I’d convinced myself he’d earned it—earned me. I’d brought the small, velvet-wrapped gift I’d prepared, but the greatest gift I carried was myself, ready to give everything to him tonight, believing we were stepping into forever.
But right now, standing here alone, all that hope felt like it was slowly crumbling.
Lance was laughing—really laughing, the kind of loud, bright laughter I rarely heard even when it was just the two of us. He leaned in close to Margaret, their heads tilted toward each other, talking like they’d never been apart. This party, he’d said it was just a welcome gathering for her, something casual. But looking at him now, with the late afternoon breeze tousling his hair and the sunset glow wrapping around them, he looked like he was celebrating something far bigger than a friend’s return. I gripped the stem of my champagne glass tighter, the bubbles inside long gone flat. I’d been sitting at this small, empty table by the poolside for over an hour, watching them from afar, while everyone else mingled and chatted around me. No one came over. No one asked why I was alone. Not even Lance.
Finally, I couldn’t bear the stillness anymore. I set the glass down with a soft clink and started walking toward the pool, my steps slow, dragging slightly over the smooth pavement. The water glinted deep blue and copper, reflecting the fading light, and I kept my eyes fixed on it, trying to steady the ache growing in my chest.
Before I could get far, Margaret stepped right in front of me. She was smiling—bright, unwavering, and strangely triumphant, like she knew something I didn’t.
She was beautiful, with her soft hair falling over her shoulders and that easy, confident way she carried herself. I forced a small, polite smile back, though I felt so lonely I could have cried.
Lance had introduced me to her earlier, quick and casual, saying, “This is Cielo, my girlfriend.” Just that. No sweet words, no proud glance, nothing like how he used to introduce me to others.
“Oh, Cielo,” she said, her voice sweet and light, tilting her head as she looked at me. “I’ve heard so much about you. Lance always told me how lucky he was to have you. He really is the best man, isn’t he? So kind, so loving… and he loves you so much, I know he does.”
My smile felt stiff, painful. What was I supposed to say? How do you answer when someone tells you your boyfriend loves you, while looking at you like she knew every secret he’d ever kept? I just nodded, my throat tight. “Yes… he is.”
Then she leaned in a little closer, her smile never fading, her tone shifting—lighter, playful, but sharp enough to cut through the soft evening air. “You know, I was just thinking… if we both accidentally fell into this pool right now… who do you think Lance would rush to save first?”
My breath caught. My eyes widened, staring at her in pure disbelief. My heart slammed against my ribs, hard and fast. I wanted to ask what she meant, why she would say something like that, but before I could speak, her hand closed tight around my wrist—firm, unyielding.
She didn’t give me a chance to pull away. With a sudden, sharp tug, she pulled me forward, and the next second, the world tilted. We both stumbled, off balance, and then—with a loud splash—we hit the cold, deep water together.
Cold water rushed into my nose and mouth the second we went under, sharp and suffocating. I thrashed wildly, arms flailing, legs kicking uselessly—I couldn’t swim, I never learned, and this pool was deeper than I’d ever imagined, the bottom nowhere in sight. Panic seized my chest, tight and burning, every breath I tried to take filling my lungs with water instead of air. I twisted and turned, desperate to stay above the surface, but my heavy dress dragged me down, pulling me deeper into the dark, shimmering blue.
I heard shouts and screams from above, muffled and distant, like they were coming from another world. Then through the blur of water and bubbles, I saw him—Lance. He was running toward the edge, his face tight with alarm, and my heart leaped. ‘He’s coming for me,’ I told myself, over and over. ‘He knows I can’t swim. He’s always known. He’ll save me. He loves me.’
He dove in, cutting through the water like a flash, and I reached out, my fingers stretching, aching to touch him, to be pulled up into safety, into his arms. But then—my hand met nothing but empty cold.
My eyes burned, stinging with water and tears, and through the haze, I watched him swim straight past me. Straight past me. He didn’t even glance my way. He surged toward Margaret, grabbed her around the waist, and kicked hard toward the surface, hauling her up as fast as he could. I saw his face then—his eyes wide, terrified, filled with so much worry for her. He was holding her close, whispering things I couldn’t hear, his whole attention fixed only on her.
It felt like my heart was tearing right out of my chest, breaking into a thousand sharp, bleeding pieces. I’d waited two years, given him every piece of my love, kept myself only for him… and here, in the moment that mattered most, I was nothing. I was invisible. I didn’t matter at all.
My strength was fading fast. My limbs grew heavy, slow, useless. I sank lower and lower, the light from above growing dimmer, the sounds of the party turning into a faint, far-off hum. Then I heard one last scream, clear and sharp: “Someone! Someone else is still drowning! There’s another person down there!”
But it was too late. The darkness was already closing in, wrapping around me like a cold blanket. My lungs burned, my head spun, and I knew—this was it. This was how it ended. Betrayed, forgotten, alone.
