Page 10 of The Four Engagement Rings of Sybil Rain

W ATER CLOSES OVER THE TOP OF MY HEAD AND THE ROAR OF THE WIND cuts off.

Beneath the waves everything feels calmer. For a whole minute, I feel solitude. I feel safe. The disaster above the waves can’t reach me down here.

Without my goggles on, I keep my eyes squeezed closed, losing myself in the soft pull of the current. My lungs start to burn from lack of oxygen, and I kick my way back up.

Breaking through the surface, I suck in a gasp of air and get a face full of saltwater. I hear both Jamie and Mason calling after me, but the idea of returning to the boat feels impossible.

I swivel to face the shore instead, seeing that it isn’t that far. I tread water, trying to calculate if I can make it. I’m an extremely good swimmer. I was always decent as a kid, but I really picked up a lot more technique and stamina when I briefly dated a swimmer at USC.

Another illustrious era of my romantic past I don’t like to spend too much time dwelling on. But at the moment, I’m grateful, at least, for the skill.

Because there’s no way in hell I’m getting back up on that boat. I’ll just get my bag from Mason later, back at the resort.

Mind made up, I take another deep breath, put on my goggles, and start swimming toward the half-moon-shaped shoreline.

Is it a little bit unhinged? Sure. But can you blame me? Besides, Mason said something about hiking trails that lead from the cove back to the main beach, so it’s not like I’m venturing into unknown wilderness.

Seconds later, there’s a splash behind me, and I turn to see Jamie shaking the water from his hair. My mouth falls open, and a swell of water splashes me in the face. I cough on saltwater, unable to believe what I’m seeing.

The whole reason I jumped out of the boat was to get away from Jamie. And it seemed like he wanted to be near me about as much as I wanted to be near him, which is to say, not at all. I dodged a bullet on that one. So what the hell is he doing out here?

I continue to swim toward shore. Jamie tries to match my pace. I ignore him and kick harder, congratulating myself on the forethought to escape while wearing a pair of flippers.

But eventually, my body begins to feel the results of all this exertion, and I slow down my strokes, allowing Jamie to come up alongside me.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” I grit out through clenched teeth.

“Could have fooled me,” he mutters, treading water. It gives me some satisfaction that he seems out of breath too.

“Besides,” I continue, “even if I did need help, that’s not your job anymore.” The words are laced with bitterness. My mind is still swirling with memories of all the times Jamie’s family made me feel like a burden, like an ill-behaved puppy that Jamie was struggling to housebreak.

“Look, I couldn’t let you swim all the way to land alone!

” Jamie insists. “It’s much too dangerous.

” He seems… angry, actually. As if he doesn’t want to be out here, treading water in the Pacific, but he’s powerless to make any other choice.

Being the dutiful guy who does the right thing is embedded so deeply in Jamie’s DNA that he’ll make himself miserable just to prove himself honorable.

I roll my eyes at him. “It’s not that dangerous, and I don’t need rescuing.” Before he can respond, I splash away from him toward the shore.

But soon enough, Jamie begins pulling ahead of me with his long strokes, and much to my annoyance, he beats me to dry land, then stands there, gathering his breath and waiting for me with his hands on his hips.

I’m almost tempted to turn around and swim right back to the boat, but it was a farther swim than I’d judged from out at sea, and my limbs are shaking with exhaustion. So maybe it was a tad impulsive of me to swim to shore on my own.

As I clomp onto the beach with my flippers, panting and out of breath, I try not to show how much effort that took, lest Jamie suspect he was right.

“Classic Sybil,” he mutters.

“What’s that?” I snap, unable to stop myself.

“Nothing, it’s just, you know. It’s quite a skill,” he says, squinting out over the water, refusing to make eye contact with me.

“What is?”

“Running away instead of facing your problems.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say defensively, even though I know exactly what he’s talking about. “I don’t have a problem. I just wanted a swim.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

Ignoring his sarcasm, I turn back to face the boat and can make out Genevieve’s concerned face bobbing up and down with the waves.

She offers a small wave. A childish part of me wants to ignore her, but guilt slices through me, and I raise my hand to wave back.

Then drop it when I realize she’s waving at Jamie.

Taking stock of the beach, desperate to figure out how to get out of here, I notice a path that cuts through the swaying grasses, winding a route along the sand, back to the other side of the headland.

Jamie nods. “The resort is that way, but we’ll have to make it up that trail first. And we should hurry if we want to get back before dark.” Then he gestures down at my bright yellow flippers. “Think you can hike in those?”

With as much dignity as I can muster, I bend down to peel them off and start down the trail, slinging my swim fins over my shoulder.

“You coming?” I ask without looking back “I might need more rescuing .”

J AMIE AND I HUFF up the trail in silence for a while, the only sound the occasional scuff of dried palm bark underfoot.

My hair is still soaked, and the only thing keeping it out of my face is the sticky plastic strap of the goggles I’ve pushed up onto my head like a headband.

As we round a bend and lose sight of the boat and the cove beach, I try to swipe surreptitiously beneath my eyes to mitigate any rings left by the goggles.

I don’t need Jamie to see me looking like a manic raccoon.

“I think we need to bear left here,” he says.

I twist my neck to look back at him. He had his shirt on when he jumped into the water after me, and it’s still wet.

Very wet. And clinging to every dip and swell of his chest and stomach.

The same chest and stomach I used to run my hands over, my mouth over.

I swing my gaze forward and start walking faster, pulling the goggles from my head and running a hand through my tangled waves.

I’m half tempted to look around for hidden cameras.

I’m no stranger to the odd uncanny coincidence or unexpected disaster, but this is some LovedBy -level shit.

I’m on an island, alone, with a man who has seen my naked body from every angle imaginable.

I can hear Nikki’s voice in my head. Sorry, Sybs.

This is no reality show. This kind of craziness could only happen to you.

At the thought, a slightly unhinged laugh bubbles out of me.

“You okay?” Jamie’s looking at me warily, like I’m a feral animal about to snap. Which, given the noise that just escaped my mouth, I guess he can be forgiven for thinking.

“Oh, I’m just peachy, you?” I start walking again and can hear Jamie’s footsteps close on my heels.

“This isn’t funny, Sybil.”

“Oh, I know it’s not, James.”

Jamie hates his full name.

“You could have gotten seriously hurt, jumping into the water like that and just swimming away. What were you thinking?”

I stop and turn to see his arms crossed against his broad chest, a deep crease forming between his eyes.

“I wasn’t thinking, okay? I just needed to—”

“Well, that much is clear,” Jamie huffs. “Forget it. Let’s keep walking. I don’t want to fight.”

“Of course you don’t.” I roll my eyes. With the exception of our blowup at the altar, Jamie and I almost never fought.

If we disagreed about something—like what to order for dinner or which movie to stream—he would present his opinion with coolheaded logic, while I’d argue my side passionately.

In the end, Jamie usually agreed to go with my choice.

But inevitably, I’d get distracted watching him watch the movie, wondering if he was actually enjoying it or if he had just given in to avoid a fight.

Which is exactly what he’s doing now. I know Jamie is furious at me.

Not just for jumping out of the snorkel boat but for everything that happened last year.

But he won’t let himself get worked up beyond mild disappointment.

The irony, of course, is that all his restraint is just making me more upset.

“You never say what you’re really feeling,” I tell him. “You shove all your feelings down—”

“And you let yours run completely wild. Following every impulsive whim without—”

“Well, good thing you didn’t marry me then, huh?” I interrupt. “Really dodged a bullet there.”

For a moment Jamie looks confused, but then realization dawns. The annoyance on his face evaporates. Pink blossoms on his cheeks as he looks down at his bare feet.

“You… you heard that?”

“Yup. Oh, and tell Gen thanks; she seems nice too.” I don’t know why I’m so stung by his words from the boat. I should be glad. This is all just proof that I was right all along. That we were wrong for each other—even at the best of times. Even when it felt right.

“Listen, Sybil—”

“It’s fine. Forget it. That’s what you wanted, right?” I turn on my heel and begin to walk up the path again, but before I can take another step, Jamie’s hand closes around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.

“It’s not fine,” he says in a low voice. His grip is loose, but I’m rooted to the spot.

This is the first time he’s touched me in over a year.

Electricity surges up my arm, burning through my whole body. Every cell is on alert and focused on the few square inches where Jamie’s skin is in contact with mine. He might as well have used titanium handcuffs to hold me in place.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Jamie whispers. “I’m sorry.”