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“That should be fine. Ronan, can I ask you a serious question?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Are you staying in Columbia?”

Dropping my head into my free hand, I let out a breath. “I’d like to see what we can do about making that happen, yeah. What are your thoughts?”

“That maybe there is a God after all.”

Hearing my very atheist VP say that makes me snort out a laugh. “Yeah, maybe.”

“We’ll talk more about it when you get out here. Just let me know when you have your travel plans.”

“Will do,” I promise her before hanging up.

I watch my dog roll around in the grass, clearly enjoying himself. Just letting Mel in on my thought process makes me feel lighter, like I can have everything I want. I’m not ready to tell the others yet, in case something happens, but I’m moving forward, and trying to create a future I can truly be proud of.

Bryce glides into the wall before turning to relax against it. He's barely breathing hard despite doing more laps than me, and at a pace that's much quicker than mine. Part of me hates him for it, and I think I always will. Not in the real way, but in the way you hold a grudge against the people who can still do the things you can't.

A living, breathing reminder of what I lost that night.

"Is the leg bothering you?" He rips his cap and goggles off, tossing them to the deck before reaching for his water bottle.

I wince at the movement. "Your hairline is going to start receding from the way you rip that cap off your head.”

He rolls his eyes mid-drink before setting the bottle back down on the edge. "Stop being so dramatic."

I shrug, draping my arms over the lane line to support myself. "Don't come crying to me when Josie starts freaking out because you're balding before forty. The leg is fine, just a little stiff. Swimming helps."

He nods. "How are things going with Mia?"

I could almost get whiplash with how quickly he changes subjects. It's not something we ever really talk about, not the way I know he and Carter do. She is the last thing I expected him to bring up this morning. Sure, Mia's his girlfriend's best friend, but he's never jumped into any of my relationships like this before. Then again, none of them were nearly as serious as this, and I bet he probably knows that.

"Fine," I reply slowly, reaching for my own water.

"Just fine?"

"What are we doing here, man?" I question with a sigh. "Are you really about to give me the shovel talk?"

He shrugs. "Someone has to do it, don't they?"

I frown at him. "Yeah, I guess, but I was expecting it to come from Josie, not you. You were my friend first, you know."

"Yeah, I was, but she needs people looking out for her more than you, sometimes. I know she told you about it, but you weren't here for the Bianca aftermath. She was a mess, and I want to make sure she's good. I'm sure you'll get a similar talk from Josie, too."

"Let's add Carter and Kat to the list, too."

"I wouldn't be surprised," he admits. "Again, you weren't here when she first moved here. We can support both of you and still be happy to kick your ass if you hurt her."

"I think Mia is more than capable of kicking my ass," I reply. "And if she doesn't, Josie will. Hell, they'd probably take turns."

"Great," Bryce replies in a much more serious tone than I'm used to him using. "Consider me third in line."

I almost tell him the truth—that if I'm stupid enough to screw this up, I'll let them all take turns. "I have no intention of screwing this up, Bryce. Not again. I'm acknowledging this second chance."

He nods, reaching for his cap and goggles again. "Good. Just make sure you don't fuck things up this time, Ronan. I know you're serious about her, but I need you to also recognize that she doesn't give third chances."

Before I can say anything else, he pushes off the wall into an easy breaststroke. Every word he said to me runs through my mind, but before long, I find my focus shifting to him. He's picked up speed, cutting through the water effortlessly and with nearly perfect form. Breaststroke might not be my area of expertise, but I've been around the sport of swimming long enough to realize he's counting his strokes. Maintaining consistency in a way that could monitor progress isn't something I've seen him do in a long time.