“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her legs still locked around my waist in the deep end of the pool. My hands were at her back, keeping her above water, and for one suspended second, neither of us moved. Then she pulled back just enough to look at me — water clinging to her lashes, her face inches from mine — and I saw something shift between us that I knew we wouldn’t come back from clean. Then the glass doors behind her opened. And her sister — my ex-fiancée — was standing there, watching us.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her legs still locked around my waist in the deep end of the pool. My hands were at her back, keeping her above water, and for one suspended second, neither of us moved. Then she pulled back just enough to look at me — water clinging to her lashes, her face…
