He reached the spot and dove under.
My heart stopped.
Three seconds had gone by.
He burst through the surface, and she was in his arms, coughing, gasping, sputtering and gasping for air.
And Romelo—god, Romelo—he pulled her against his chest so hard, so tight, like he was trying to absorb her into his body. Like he needed to feel her breathing to believe she was real.
“I got you baby, just breathe. Breathe for me baby. Breathe,”he kept saying, his voice cracking, shaking. His hand cradled the back of her head, fingers tangled in her wet hair, caressing her waist. His strong tatted arms cradled her like she was fragile, holding her close.
She coughed up water, her body convulsing, and he turned her slightly, supporting her thick frame with his palm flat on her back.“That’s it baby, breathe. Just breathe for me baby. Breathe for me and I’ll handle the rest. I got you.”
My vision blurred. I couldn’t tell if it was tears or if I was about to pass out. A lump formed in the back of my throat, and not even a swallow could make it go away. I wanted to pass out and die.
Synthia’s arms wrapped around his neck, clinging to him, her face pressed into his shoulder. She was crying now and wouldn’t let him go. Even when the instructor reached them. Even Oliver tried to help. Romelo held on like she was the only thing keeping him alive.
“You’re okay,”he whispered, his lips against her temple.“You’re okay. I got you. I’m right here baby.”
He spoke as if no one else existed, as if they were in a realm and we were watching them. His hand moved from her face, cupping her cheek, tilting her head back so he could look at her. His thumb wiped the tears streaming down her face. His eyes were stretched, like she was his soft spot.
He’d never looked at me like that.
Not ever.
My chest caved in, and I couldn’t breathe. It felt like somebody was pressing on it, or squeezing the little life I had out of me.
The realization didn’t come gently. It slammed into me, vicious and unforgiving, stealing the air from my lungs. I couldn’t do shit but be still and watch the man I love hold my cousin like she was his entire world.
This man who’d killed people without blinking, who stayed calm when guns were pointed at his head, who never flinched, never panicked, never broke when shit was falling apart. I thought of all the times I needed him. He’d been there, for moral support, but it was never like that. He never looked at me like losing me would destroy him. But her? He looked like he’d just pulled his heart out of that water.
They were swimming back now, Romelo’s arm still locked around Synthia’s waist, keeping her close. She wasn’t even struggling anymore, just letting him guide her. His Gucci swimming trunks were drenched and sand covered his feet. The diamonds from his Cuban chain and Audemars Piguet watch glistened. Her head was resting against his shoulder, with her eyes closed, trusting him to guide her.
When they reached the shore, Mimi and Oliver were rushing toward him in a huddle, along with the instructor. They trailed behind them. A gasp escaped my mouth when he lifted her to carry her in his arms like she weighed nothing. Someone handed them a towel, and he wrapped it around her shoulders, tucking it in carefully. Then he kissed her again, not a quick peck to the forehead this time, a lingering kiss, his lips resting on her wet skin. Like it was natural. Like he’d done it a thousand times before.
Everything was numb except the pain in my chest. I still couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything but watch my man hold the woman he actually wanted in front of me, like I didn’t exist.
I paddled back to shore, alone. My movements were robotic, my mind racing. I didn’t say a word to anyone. If I opened my mouth, I’d fucking scream. I wanted to kill this bitch. I wanted to kill both of them, actually. I wanted Mimi and Oliver too, for witnessing this shit.
I’m not the type of bitch who can be played with, and I don’t like people who play in my fucking face. I don’t deserve this shit.
I got out of the kayak and walked with my head hung low toward the beach house, amid the drowned and watched Romelo cloak Synthia like he was her guardian.
My blood was boiling, and I was riddled with anger that I couldn’t control.
In one swift motion, ignoring the chaos, I walked into the kitchen, grabbed a butcher knife, and charged toward Romelo. His back was turned, and Synthia had his attention captive. I was seeing fire, and everything around me was blurry, but my gaze remained trained on them. I wanted to seek vengeance. I wanted them to hurt. I wanted them to feel exactly what I’d been feeling. If I wasn’t happy, then no one should be happy.
My feelings should be valid, and I don’t need people around me trying to rationalize my actions. I charged toward Romelo like a raging bull, but Oliver caught my hand, getting in the way.
“Oliver, move,” I glanced over at him, with tears swarming down my face. “Get the fuck out my way! Let my fucking hand go!” I snapped.
“Don’t do this shit right now, mane,” he spoke. His deep voice was soft, but it didn’t move me. “Give me the fucking knife!”
Romelo’s head popped up, and his eyes were dark and menacing toward me now. A look that I’d be scared to see in my dreams.
“Calm down,” Oliver spoke again.
“You’re expecting me to be calm and he’s fucking her!” I yelled. “This whole time he’s been fucking her, and you’re expecting me to be fucking calm!” I snapped at Oliver.
