“No,” I say, flat out. “You know how I feel, and I can’t take another year of this. I’m seriously worried that if the restaurant goes bankrupt, they’ll come after our house.”
He speaks reassuringly. “That’s not going to happen.”
“How do you know? The lawyer said it was a possibility.”
With diminishing hope, I face the raging ocean, the violent swells, and the foaming whitecaps. The sky is blue, and the sun is beaming on the water, but the world is a tempest right now. I’m freezing, and I want to scream. I don’t want lunch or hot chocolate. I just want to get back in the car and drive home alone. Nate can call an Uber.
I turn and start hopping down the sloping rocks.
“Sienna, wait!” Nate calls after me. “Just let me tell you about the plan!”
“No! You need therapy!” I shout over my shoulder, but I feel him chasing after me.
Suddenly, I’m knocked off my feet. It’s as if I’ve been bodychecked. The next instant, I’m spinning in the churning, ice-cold water. The temperature takes my breath away, and I gasp. Frigid salt water pours into my lungs. It burns my chest and stings my flesh, like a steel cheese grater scouring my entire body.
I struggle to kick and swim to the surface, but I’m powerless against the currents. My body is flung into a series of barrel rolls. I can’t breathe. I’m disoriented. My heart is about to explode.
Then I slam against a rock-solid wall. The impact paralyzes me, and I go limp as I’m swept away. There’s red in the water. It’s my blood, but I don’t know where it’s coming from because I feel bone-numbing pain everywhere.
Miraculously, I break the surface, catch a brief glimpse of blue sky, and cough water out of my lungs. But I have only seconds to take a breath before I’m struck by a massive wave and sucked under again, into the bubbles and cold, rolling deep.
Down I go . . .
There’s no hope for me.
No one can save me now. I know it.
I become drowsy . . . confused . . . numb.
There’s no more pain.
My children ...God in heaven, my children.
I think of them with heartache. I don’t want to leave them alone in the world, but there’s nothing I can do. This is the end. I’m about to die here.
Yet the will to survive is steadfast. As I’m dragged down by the undertow, my body craves oxygen. I open my mouth and draw in an enormous breath of water.
The shock of it entering my lungs sends me into a fresh panic. My body twitches and seizes convulsively. The loss of control is devastating. This goes on and on.
Eventually, my panic recedes. I am thrust upward again, toward the surface. I see bubbles, glistening in the sun, rising, and I kick hard and shoot like a rocket toward the light.
I need to get home. I need to see my children one more time. Warn them that I won’t be around after today. They’ll need to rely on their father and Becky. Most of all, I want them to know they’re loved.
I fly through the front door of my house and reach the kitchen. Oscar is asleep on his bed next to the sofa. He stirs. His tail starts wagging, and he barks with distress, so I comfort him. I kiss his sweet, furry cheek, and he nuzzles my neck.
“What a good boy you are.”
He prances in circles.
Amanda runs down the stairs, and I’m overjoyed to see her.
“Oscar, what is it?” She kneels beside him and tries to scratch behind his ears, but he darts away and twirls, as if he’s chasing his tail. He stops, and his ears perk up. He looks intently at me, then at her, then back at me again.
Amanda laughs and gets up off the floor. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Sweetheart,” I say to her, but she ignores me. “Amanda, you have to listen. I just drowned.”
At first, I’m baffled by her disinterest. Then I remember that I’m dead and she can’t see me. If she could, she’d hug me and cry her eyes out, and she’d refuse to let me go.
