A SECOND CHANCE AT FOREVER Chapter 83: CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE

KYLE

I hadn’t planned on coming here today.

It was just one of those moments—one where the weight of everything settled too heavily on my shoulders, and I needed somewhere to go. Somewhere familiar. Somewhere that didn’t feel like a goddamn battlefield.

So I ended up here.

The pool.

Ours, in a way.

I told myself it wasn’t about her. That I wasn’t here because of Ashley. But that lie barely lasted the second I stepped inside and saw her.

She hadn’t noticed me.

Didn’t see me lingering by the far end of the deck, half in the shadows, keeping my distance.

Just like she wanted.

But I saw her.

I saw the hesitation in the way she stood at the water’s edge, the way she rolled her shoulders back, squaring them as if trying to shake something off. 

Then she dove in.

I should have left.

Should have turned around, walked away, let her have this moment without me watching from the sidelines like some pathetic shadow of what we used to be.

But I couldn’t.

Instead, I watched.

She moved through the water with a grace that hadn’t come naturally to her in the beginning. I still remembered those early days, the fear in her eyes, the tension in her body. How every instinct she had told her to fight, to panic, to run.

But she hadn’t run.

She had fought through it. Trusted me enough to let me guide her.

And now?

Now she swam like she belonged there.

A small, bitter part of me wished I could take credit for that. That some piece of what we had still lingered, still mattered.

But that wasn’t why I was here.

I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through my hair as I leaned against the railing, telling myself I’d leave soon. Just a few more minutes. Just long enough to convince myself that she was okay, that she was—

She missed a stroke.

I frowned, straightening slightly.

It was small. Barely a stumble in her rhythm. But I knew her. I knew the way she swam, the way she moved. And something was off.

She missed another.

Then another.

And suddenly—

She went under.

A cold, sharp bolt of fear shot through my chest.

She didn’t come back up.

The water stilled, eerily quiet in the wake of her absence.

Too long.

Way too long.

I was moving before I even registered it, my feet barely making a sound as I sprinted toward the pool’s edge. Then I was diving in, slicing through the water, the cold barely registering as I pushed deeper, searching.

And then—

I saw her.

Her body, motionless, suspended in the blue depths.

Ashley.

Everything inside me seized.

No, no, no.

I kicked harder, reaching her in seconds, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her against me. Her skin was ice-cold. Too cold.

She wasn’t breathing.

The thought sent a wave of panic crashing through me, but I shoved it down. I held her close, twisting our bodies as I kicked upward with everything I had, propelling us toward the surface.

Breaking through the water, I gasped for air, my chest heaving, but my focus was solely on her. Her head rested limply against my shoulder, her lips parted, but no breath came.

“Come on, Freckles,” I rasped, my voice raw as I swam toward the edge, each movement fueled by pure desperation. “Stay with me.”

The deck loomed closer, but she still wasn’t moving.

Still wasn’t breathing.

Panic clawed at my throat, a suffocating, relentless force.

Not like this.

Not her.

I wasn’t going to lose her.

I couldn’t.

I reached the edge, gripping the side as I hoisted both of us up, pulling her onto the deck. Water dripped from her skin, her body unmoving beneath my hands.

“Ashley.” I shook her gently, my fingers pressing against her pulse point. It was there—faint, but there. But her chest wasn’t rising, wasn’t pulling in the breath she needed.

I didn’t think.

Didn’t hesitate.

I tilted her head back, pressing my hands over her ribs before giving a firm push. Once. Twice. Three times.

“Come on, damn it.”

I covered her mouth with mine, breathing air into her lungs, my own pulse thundering in my ears.

Nothing.

I repeated the motion, my hands moving with precision, forcing air into her unresponsive body. My jaw clenched, a thousand memories crashing into me all at once. Her laughter. Her stubbornness. The way she used to glare at me when I pushed her too hard.

I wasn’t letting that go.

I wasn’t letting her go.

Another breath. Another compression.

Then—

A sharp gasp.

Ashley’s body jerked, her chest rising as she sucked in a desperate, choking breath.

Relief slammed into me so hard I nearly collapsed.

She coughed violently, water spilling from her lips as she curled onto her side, her body trembling. My hands hovered, torn between giving her space and making sure she was okay.

Then, as her breathing steadied, her eyes fluttered open.

Dazed. Confused.

And then—

Recognition.

Her gaze locked onto mine, her lips parting as realization dawned.

She sucked in another breath, her voice hoarse but laced with something sharp.

“You—”

And I knew.

I knew exactly what she was going to say.

But I beat her to it.

“Yeah, Freckles,” I murmured, exhaling heavily. “It’s me.”

Her brows knitted together, her throat working as she swallowed.

I didn’t let her sit up yet. Just rested a hand on her shoulder, grounding her, grounding myself.

“You scared the hell out of me,” I admitted quietly.

For a long moment, she didn’t say anything.

Then, barely above a whisper—

“I wasn’t supposed to need saving.”

The words hit me harder than they should have.

I didn’t know what to say to that.

So I said the only thing that mattered.

“Well, too damn bad.”

Ashley’s breathing was still shaky, her body trembling from the shock of it all. I could feel it beneath my hands—the raw fragility of the moment.

She wasn’t supposed to need saving.

But she did.

And it damn near destroyed me.

I exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down my face before shifting closer. “You need to get warm,” I said, my voice gruffer than I intended. “Can you sit up?”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering to mine before she gave a small nod. But the second she tried, her arms buckled, her body still too weak.

I caught her before she could fall, steadying her with firm hands.

“Easy.” I cursed under my breath. “You’re not okay yet, Freckles.”

She flinched slightly at the way I said her name.

Like we weren’t tangled in this moment, like my hands weren’t still holding her up, like my heart wasn’t hammering against my ribs as if it had almost lost something it wasn’t ready to let go of.

“Come on,” I murmured, ignoring the way she stiffened when I hooked my arms under her legs and lifted her.

She was cold. Too damn cold.

Her cheek pressed against my shoulder, but she didn’t say a word as I carried her into the building, the sound of water dripping from us onto the tile the only noise between us.

I took her to the lounge by the lockers, where it was warmer. Sitting on one of the benches, I kept her in my lap because I didn’t trust her to stay upright. Hell, I didn’t trust myself to let go just yet.

She let out a small breath, barely a whisper of sound, as I reached for one of the thick towels from the shelf and wrapped it around her.

Her fingers clutched at the edges, but she still wasn’t meeting my eyes.

“Ash—”

“I’m fine,” she cut in, her voice quieter than before, but the stubbornness was there. A weak imitation of her usual fire, but there nonetheless.

I let out a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, you sure looked fine at the bottom of that pool.”

She flinched, her fingers tightening around the towel.

I sighed, raking a hand through my wet hair. “What happened?” I pressed.

For a second, I thought she wouldn’t answer.

Then—

“I don’t know,” she admitted, and it was the truth. “I was swimming. Then… I wasn’t.”

Her voice wavered slightly, frustration creeping in. Ashley wasn’t someone who lost control. She wasn’t someone who let herself be weak. And I knew that terrified her more than anything else.

I wanted to press more. To ask if she’d been feeling off before it happened, if something had triggered it. But I didn’t. Not yet.

With a quiet sigh, she straightened, shaking off the haze of exhaustion like a wounded soldier refusing to show weakness.

“I’m fine now,” she murmured, barely above a whisper, her voice still laced with the weight of everything she wouldn’t say. Then, with more conviction, “I should go.”

The words sent a sharp pang through my chest.

Of course she’d say that. Even after nearly drowning, after the way her body was still trembling from shock.

I let out a slow breath, then leaned against the counter, arms crossed as I watched her with a quiet amusement. “Yeah?” I drawled, tilting my head slightly. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that, Freckles?”

She lifted her chin, stubborn. “By walking out the door.”

I huffed a low laugh, dark and knowing. “Sure. That’s an option. Except for one little thing…”

Her brows furrowed, wariness flickering in her gaze. “What?”

I pushed off the counter, closing the space between us in one slow, deliberate step. “You’re not going anywhere.”

She sucked in a breath, but I didn’t stop. My fingers found her chin, tilting her face up so she couldn’t look away. 

“Freckles,” I murmured, voice low and lethal, “You can sue me for kidnapping. Hell, you can slap me with some kind of divorce violation—breach of ex-husband contract, or whatever the hell you wanna call it But I’m not letting you go all by yourself.” My grip on her chin tightened just slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to keep her grounded, to make sure she was listening. “So you have exactly two choices. One, you walk with me nice and easy. Or two…” I leaned closer, until my breath fanned against her lips, until the space between us was nothing but static and fire. “I carry you.”

Her pulse jumped beneath my fingers.

“So what’s it gonna be?”