She scowled to herself. Since when did she think about touching the bottom? The farther she was from the reef or rocky shore, the better—it meant fewer chances of being smashed by waves. That had always been the rule. That had always been safe.
“Are you sure?” Callum asked, apprehension flickering in his gorgeous blue eyes. With the sunlight reflecting off the water, they looked even clearer, almost unreal.
Alejandra nodded, pressing her lips together as she hyped herself up mentally.Come on. You’ve done this your whole life.
“I can do it. It’s just water. I’ve been swimming since I was a kid. And I’m not scared of water, like this…” she trailed off, hearing herself ramble.
Callum chuckled next to her, low and warm. “You get way chattier when you’re nervous.”
A slight groan escaped her. “I shouldn’t be nervous.”
Callum reached for her chin, gently but firmly turning her face toward him, forcing her to stop right at the edge of the water and focus on his eyes. “You do that groan again, and I’m taking you right here.”
A smirk tugged at her lips despite everything. “Wetsuits are a bit… in the way.”
“I’ll rip it off you if it’s necessary,” he shot back, his dimple popping, making her stomach flip in the most inconvenient way possible. Then his expression softened. “But right now… are you sure you want to go in? I don’t want to pressure you.”
“The thing is,” she said solemnly, even as her heart thudded too fast in her chest, “I’m pressuring myself. And it’s not pressure—it’s stopping this nonsense. I love the water. The water loves me.” She exhaled sharply, like she was arguing with herself. “Stop it.”
She stretched out her hand toward him. “Will you come with me?”
Callum didn’t hesitate. He laced his fingers with hers.
“Always.”
She glanced back at the water.
“Remember, you’re in the hands of a pro swimmer,” he added lightly.
She snorted. “I think I can handle it.”
And then she stepped in.
The cold wrapped around her instantly, biting at the small patches of skin not protected by the thick wetsuit Rhiannon had lent her. For a second, it stole her breath, but then something else crept in. Something familiar.
Floating. Weightless. For a moment, it felt… right. Almost normal. But she knew better. She knew the panic would come.
“I need to put my head underwater,” she said suddenly, turning to him. “Could you hold my hands?”
Because that was when it always happened. In the dark, in the silence, when she closed her eyes and the memory took over, waking up in the middle of the night, choking on air, convinced she was still trapped beneath the surface, that crushing weight pressing down on her chest.
“I’ll be here, Alejandra.”
She took a deep breath, trying to steady her thundering heart.You’ve done this every day for thirty-three years. This is nothing.
Deep inhale. Deep exhale.
And before she could overthink it, she dunked underwater.
Cold. Immediate. Suffocating. Her eyes stayed shut, but it didn’t matter. The memory came anyway—sharp, vivid, merciless. The reef. The crack. The pressure. The helplessness.
Her body reacted before her mind could catch up.
She kicked up and broke the surface, gasping. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. It felt like forever.
Callum was right there. Watching her. She saw it in his eyes—the concern, the tension, the way his body was already angled toward her like he was ready to grab her if needed.
She didn’t say anything. Instead, she clung to the paddleboard, burying her face into the rubber surface, and the sobs came.
