Chapter 3

The next morning, Ethan found Liv in the kitchen, pale but upright.

"Feeling better?" he asked, his tone casual, as if he hadn't completely ignored her the night before.

He acted like he was unaware she had even been sick.

The obliviousness was staggering.

Liv just nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

He tried to bridge the chasm between them with a suggestion.

"Hey, the weather's supposed to be great this weekend. What do you say we take the yacht out? Just like old times."

He smiled, a charming, hopeful smile that used to make her heart melt.

Now, it just looked manipulative.

A flicker of something – a desperate, foolish hope – stirred within her, but she quickly extinguished it.

There were no "old times" to return to.

Before Liv could refuse, Chloe wafted into the kitchen, a hand protectively on her stomach.

"Sailing? Oh, that sounds lovely! I've never been on a yacht before. Do you mind if I join, Liv? For the baby, of course. Fresh sea air is so good for us."

Her voice was sweet, innocent, but her eyes held a glint of triumph.

Liv felt a surge of anger.

Chloe's intrusion was calculated, designed to ruin any chance of reconciliation, however slim.

Ethan looked torn for a moment.

"Chloe, I don't know... maybe it's best if..."

Chloe's lower lip trembled. Tears welled in her eyes.

"Oh. I understand. I'm just... I'm being a burden, aren't I? I'll just stay home. It's fine."

Ethan caved instantly.

"No, no, of course you can come! It'll be good for you. We'll all go."

He couldn't deny her anything, not when she played the victim so masterfully.

Liv watched, her heart hardening further.

His weakness was a constant, painful reminder of his betrayal.

The weekend on the Cartwright family yacht was tense from the start.

Ethan's attention was solely on Chloe.

He fussed over her, making sure she was comfortable, bringing her snacks, adjusting her pillows.

Liv might as well have been invisible.

She sat alone at the stern, watching the New England coastline recede, feeling a profound sadness.

This was her life now, a spectator to her husband's devotion to another woman.

A sudden squall blew in, catching them off guard.

The sky turned black, the wind howled, and the sea became a churning monster.

Chloe started screaming, feigning panic.

"The boom! It's swinging! Help me, Ethan!"

She stumbled, "accidentally" knocking into the mainsheet, causing the heavy boom to swing violently across the deck.

It was heading straight for Liv.

Liv had no time to react.

The impact was brutal, a blinding flash of pain as the boom slammed into her, sending her flying overboard into the frigid, churning water.

Ethan's reaction was instantaneous.

He lunged, not for Liv, but for Chloe.

He pulled the "distressed" Chloe to safety on deck, cradling her, murmuring reassurances.

"It's okay, Chloe, I've got you. You're safe."

Liv struggled in the icy water, the cold seeping into her bones, her arm throbbing with an agonizing pain.

She could see Ethan on deck, his back to her, completely focused on Chloe.

He hadn't even looked to see if she was okay.

He had chosen.

A memory flashed through her mind: Ethan, years ago, on this very yacht, under a summer sky.

He'd held her close. "If anything ever happens, Liv, I'll always save you first. Always."

The bitter irony of that promise, of his complete abandonment now, was the cruelest blow of all.

She was sinking, the cold water pulling her down.

Despair washed over her.

She closed her eyes, the pain in her arm and her heart becoming a dull ache, the roar of the storm fading.

This was it.

This was how it ended.