RO SHRIEKS WHEN HE TIPS a water bottle over her. “Your turn to get wet,” he says.
She pushes him toward the edge. “You jump first.”
He can’t resist her, and she knows it. “Come after me.”
She gives him another push. “Always.” Then she’s laughing behind him as he dives into the cold jolt of the water. He shoots down and opens his eyes in the brackishness, turning toward the faint hull of the boat. Instead of Ro diving after him, a lure drops into the water. She’s playing one of her games.
He kicks hard and breaks the surface. There she is on the deck, grinning in an old straw hat that somehow suits her, her sun-bleached hair over both shoulders, her locket dangling.
He treads water, keeping warm. “You gonna jump in?”
“Nope, decided to fish,” Ro says. “Have I got you hooked yet?”
“Who haven’t you hooked?” he asks, and it’s meant to be a joke, but he thinks of Lance and jealousy hits him. He doesn’t know what Ro sees in him.
“Your face is going all funny,” she says, casting again.
He grabs the ladder and hauls himself up. If he tells her he’s jealous of her friend, he’ll set her off. If he points out how Lance is always hanging around her when he’s at work, she’ll just laugh, say he’s harmless. But now she’s waiting for an answer, and he has to tell her the truth. That’s the promise they made.
“I was thinking about you and Lance.”
“How many times do you need to hear it? There is no me and Lance.”
He knows this, deep down. He hates sounding possessive—it reminds him of his mother—but he keeps talking anyway. “I don’t trust him.”
Her eyes narrow. “Funny. That’s what he said about you.”
Cage’s jaw clamps down, and for a minute he forgets to breathe. “Ro…”
“What?” Her voice has an edge; they’re so near to fighting he can taste it. “I said, what?”
He shakes his head, tries to spit the bitterness out. “Nothing.” But she doesn’t like one-word answers, so he finds something else to say. “Thought we were heading in soon.” They were adrift in the bay, nearly back at Blue Gate, close enough to hear the birds on the shore.
“We are.” Her nylon line glints in the sun and then disappears into the water. He’s probably ruined the whole day by bringing up Lance. Everything he’s planned, just because he had to open his mouth.
“Cage?”
“Yeah.”
“I love you.”
She looks at him with those green eyes, and he can’t say it back—he’s still pissed off a little. But she smiles anyway and he loves her even more.
A moment later her line starts bouncing. She’s looking sly in her red bikini and that crooked straw hat.
“You get all the luck,” he says.
She grins. “I got you.”
And then his stomach goes to shreds, and he knows he has to do it. Not many things scare him, except for this; he lies awake at night thinking about it. Here’s his chance, while it’s just the two of them. He opens the small hatch and finds what he hid.
When he turns back, there’s a halo of light around her—the sun’s behind her and the effect is something magic. Then he drops to his knee, because his mother has always told him that’s the best way. The deck is digging into his skin, and his throat is dry, even though they’re surrounded by water that seems bigger than the sky itself. But Ro is bigger than all of it—she is everything to him, and he says her name aloud.
Her line’s still bobbing when she turns to him. Her eyes widen at the box in his hands, and the rod splashes into the water. Then he knows he’s got her attention. He needs to go through with it before he loses his courage.
“I don’t have a speech or anything,” he says, “but I have this.” He holds up the box and opens it. “Will you marry me?”
She grins like she’s about to say yes, and then he’s grinning too. But when her gaze settles on the ring, all of a sudden she stops smiling. Her hand goes to her mouth and she’s shaking her head. He falters for a second, almost lets go. Looks down at the box to make sure the ring hasn’t fallen out. But it’s sitting right there, gold and red in the sun, and he can’t figure out why she’s not smiling anymore.
She’s staring at it, so he does too. Maybe it isn’t good enough? It’s the heirloom ring with the rubies on top, what his mother gave him after he drove home this summer. He went back to tell her he met a girl, someone he loved more than anything. More than a new motorcycle, or having friends who weren’t scared of him, or getting a job out of high school so he wouldn’t have to worry. When he turned to leave, ready to head back to his uncle’s, his mother grabbed his elbow, shoved the box into his hand. Go after her, she told him. Don’t let her go, and for once she wasn’t so bitter. Good luck, she said. That’s the ring your dad gave me. It’s yours now.
He’s thinking all this as he holds it out, the very best thing he can offer, and Ro looks at him and finally speaks. “Where’s it from?”
His heart is firing in his chest because it’s not supposed to be like this—it’s supposed to be a one-word answer. He gets to his feet. “What?”
“You heard me.” There’s fire in her voice, and he can’t believe this is happening.
“I didn’t steal it,” he says. “It’s a family ring.” He thought she’d like the oldness of it, the meaning behind it, and here she is looking at him like he’s done something wrong. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
She doesn’t answer him, and he can feel the worry snake move in his stomach. He wants to start over again; he wants another chance.
“If this is about money,” he says, “I’ll keep working for my uncle.”
“Your uncle who lives here. In Gulf Shores.” She sounds different; she’s not acting like herself.
“I could get a job for more somewhere—”
“Cage,” she interrupts. She’s shaking her head again; she’s upset. “This is bigger than both of us.” Now she won’t even look at him. She’s staring at the ring. “God. The engraving…”
He touches her elbow but she shakes him off, her eyes still on the ring. The dock is in sight now and the worry snake coils around his neck and he wonders what he did wrong. “Ro, talk to me.”
“How were we to know?” Her face is drained of happiness, and it scares him. “This is bigger than both of us, Cage,” she whispers again, and he wants her to stop.
“Just tell me what you mean!” His yell is out before he realizes it, and her green eyes narrow on him.
“It is what I mean,” she says, and he grabs her hand. “Just back off!” she shouts, and the wind sweeps away her words, carries them out to sea, and she’s staring at him now, breathing hard. He’s vaguely aware that the boat is drifting closer to the dock. They’ll hit it soon.
“My book, Cage. Don’t you get it?” The sharpness is gone from her voice, but she’s still talking nonsense, and she hasn’t said what counts—she hasn’t said yes.
He steps away from her. An excuse, that’s all it is. They’ve got to dock any minute and the snake is gnawing on him, biting down. She’s looking out over the water now, all the fight has left her. But his temper’s burning through him, and he tries to hold it back. He’s been so wrong.
“How are you so calm, Ro?”
She turns. Her eyes search his face like it’s something she’s only just now seeing. “Start from one because it’s better than nothing.” It’s her thing to say when she knows he’s angry. “I guess we can laugh or we can cry, Cage. Or count to ten and take a deep breath.”
So that’s it—she’s made it pretty simple. Play by her rules. Don’t ask questions. Somehow he manages to move his feet, to steer with one hand while she pulls on a T-shirt and leaps to the dock, ties figure eights around the cleats.
She finishes, but he’s stuck on the boat, still holding the box with the ring. When she sees him standing there, she hops back on for him, almost like the old Ro—the one he thought would’ve said yes. But instead she says, “Let’s go home.”
“Just take this,” he says, and folds the box into her hand because it’s the only thing he can do.
“But—”
“It’s for you.”
She touches his shoulder and then draws back like it hurts her. “We can talk about this later,” she says. “Okay?”
He still hasn’t moved, and she’s almost at the edge of the boat when he slams his fist into the wheel. “Ro!” he calls out.
She turns, and her look is telling him it’s going to be okay and he swears he hears faraway bells chiming, a song to match the magic that’s always around her, even now. “What?”
There’s no going back, so he’ll lay it all out. “I love you, no matter what. Until the day I die, and then some.”
She smiles, but it’s a sad smile, and the box is gone now, shoved into her shirt pocket. He won’t ask her if she’s wearing the ring, he won’t make this any worse.
“I know,” she says, her eyes still on him, as she steps backward, except she trips on something, or twists her ankle, because she’s falling. Before he can reach out, before he can yell, she disappears over the side and there’s a loud thump, an earsplitting crack—no, no, no—and he rushes to the edge.
There’s blood on the dock, there’s blood and he can’t find her anywhere and then he panics, he yells out her name again and again. His heart is wild in his chest as he searches the water, but he can’t see her, she hasn’t come up, and then he thinks he sees her, a curling tendril of blond hair. He dives after her, his whole body screaming inside as he hits the water, arms outstretched, reaching, grasping. Where is she? Where? His hands close on something and he pulls it, but it’s only seaweed. He shoots up for more air and dives down again, opening his eyes in the murky water. He can’t find her; he can’t see anything except the hull of the boat. The water is warm in places and cold in others but she isn’t here; it’s light and dark and full of tiny creatures but not her, not her. He kicks deeper and feels his heart skidding and when he turns to get air there’s a shadow hovering above, floating through the green.
It’s her—her body, her face. Ro! He kicks up and grabs her. He pulls her toward shore, everything inside him straining as he drags her in, tugging her onto the sand.
“Ro!” he shouts, and he turns her sideways, tries to get the water out of her, but she’s bleeding, her whole head is sticky, and her hair, her red suit, no, that’s blood, that’s blood. He hits against her ribs and breathes into her mouth thinking, Cough, thinking, Breathe, and her eyes are wide open, Breathe! He hears her whisper his name, but when he puts his hand against her neck there’s no pulse. Her eyes are wide open but not looking, and then there’s a shout, someone’s running at him—it’s Lance, maybe he can help, please help Ro, but Lance starts yelling, and there’s a gun in his hands, and now he’s screaming at him, something that sounds a lot like What have you done?