Chapter 3
750 Words
Soon after entering the cave, I hit a rare double underground current. The guiding rope snapped, the main light was smashed by an impact.
In the pitch‑black maze, I could only feel my way back by memory. But I went into a one‑way dead end. At twenty‑one minutes, my main tank alarm went off.
I finally realized I might never get out. I sat down against the rock wall and waited for death. I even carved a smiley face into the stone, the way I always did after training with Ethan.
At 5:47 PM, the oxygen ran out.
In that final darkness, I remembered learning to swim as a child.
That suffocating fear the first time I put my face in the water. The coach said, "If you're scared, open your eyes. See how beautiful the underwater world is."
I opened my eyes. In the Blue Tears cave, glowing jellyfish were rising slowly around me, like a sky full of stars blooming just for me.
It was so beautiful. I think that dying here felt better than going back to being the Lena who never got angry. At least here, my tears could finally blend with the water. No one would call me dramatic...
As my life flashed before my eyes, I saw Sophie in my wedding dress, turning happily. The white hem spread wide like blossoming flowers across the carpet.
She looked up at Ethan, her voice soft, her eyes shy and pitiful.
"Ethan, are you sure Lena won't be mad that we're trying on her dress?"
Ethan answered quickly, too quickly, as if trying to convince himself, "She won't. She's always been reasonable."
He seemed so sure that I was strong enough, so it was fine to disappoint me again and again. He believed that I was reasonable, so my feelings would always come after Sophie's tears.
Sophie threw herself into Ethan's arms, her eyes glistening. "Ethan, thank you for letting me wear this dress. If Simon were still alive, he'd be so happy to see this."
Ethan's body went rigid. But at the mention of Simon, a flash of pain crossed his eyes.
His hand instinctively went to Sophie's waist, but he pulled back almost immediately, like he'd touched something hot. One of the pearls I'd sewn onto the dress must have brushed against his hand.
Ethan used to tell me I was like a pearl, tough on the outside but softer than anyone realized underneath. For a split second, I wondered if the memory had hit him too.
Sophie's tears still hung on her lashes. She looked up at him, confused and pitiful. "Ethan? What's wrong?"
But Ethan suddenly clutched his chest, his face twisted in pain. As if the most important piece of his heart had gone missing. He couldn't grasp it, couldn't find it.
Sophie panicked and grabbed his arm. "What is it? Are you okay? Don't scare me!"
Ethan said he was fine and sat down on the sofa. While Sophie changed out of the dress, his eyes drifted to his phone. My unread messages were still there. The last one, sent two hours ago.
Lena: Captain, I'm going down. The water flow data is abnormal. If you see this, contact the geological survey immediately and ask about the last three days of seismic activity.
He read it. But he didn't reply. Just like so many times before. Two years ago, on my birthday, Ethan had promised to have dinner with me. But at dusk, Sophie called, "Ethan, the power is out at my place... I'm so scared..."
He grabbed his jacket. I held his arm. "Ethan, you promised you wouldn't bail this year."
He pried my fingers off without a second thought, his eyes cold. "Lena, Sophie lives alone. Cut me some slack."
My voice trembled. "Then who cuts me some slack? Ethan, aren't I afraid of living alone? Afraid of the dark? Afraid of facing the night by myself?"
Ethan turned to look at me as if I'd said something ridiculous. "You're different from Sophie. You're strong enough to handle your own emotions." He left without looking back.
I stayed in the training pool until midnight, repeating underwater equipment failure drills. When I pulled the regulator out of my mouth and let the water fill my nose and throat before fighting to put it back,
I thought he was right. I was strong enough. Strong enough to live with the feeling that I was drowning.
- Writer
