From Here, No More Us

When Ian brought Cecilia home that night, he hesitated. Leah was eating alone.

She used to wait up for him, no matter how late. He'd told her not to—she never listened.

Now? Watching her eat solo like it was nothing, something twisted in his chest. He opened his mouth to say something, but Cecilia tugged his arm.

"Ian, should we tell Leah about tomorrow's plans?"

He turned to her. "Doctor said she's too tense lately—it might mess with the IVF. She needs to chill. She likes diving, so we're going."

Leah stood up, headed upstairs. "Go ahead."

She wasn't about to play along with their charade.

Ian caught up before she could shut the door, yanking her hand hard. "Leah, I know you hate the IVF thing, but Cecilia's innocent! Why are you taking it out on her?"

She dropped her gaze. The cut on her finger split open under his grip, bleeding through the bandage.

All she'd said was no—and he was already jumping to defend the woman he loved.

"Ian, she's your sister-in-law. Your brother's wife."

That landed like a slap. He flinched, then snapped, shaking her off. "Leah, you're disgusting! I told you—it's just IVF! Nothing happened!

"My parents want Andrew to have a kid! I can't let them die heartbroken, or let him be forgotten! Why can't you get that, just once?"

Leah didn't answer. Just looked at him, quiet, while he tried to convince himself.

Finally, he turned away, guilt flickering in his eyes as he walked out.

Leah unwrapped the gauze. Blood pooled up again.

Once, even a paper cut on her hand used to freak him out. Now? He didn't even notice this one.

What Cecilia really was to him—sister-in-law or something else—only he knew.

***

The next morning, Ian ignored Leah's protests and shoved her into the car. He and Cecilia took the front seats, leaving her stuck in the back.

He used to hate talking while driving—said it wasn't safe.

Now he and Cecilia were cracking up the whole ride.

Off the coast, they changed into wetsuits and dove in.

Half an hour later, Cecilia popped up. "Leah, you coming in?"

She shook her head. "I can't swim."

"Oh, really—"

Cecilia suddenly grabbed her wrist. "Come on! Don't be lame!"

Next thing Leah knew, she was yanked straight into the water.

Leah gasped, panic hitting hard as she reached out—Cecilia was already gone.

Cold seawater shot up her nose, filled her mouth. Her body sank fast, out of control.

"Help! Ian! Help!"

She thrashed, choking, until a figure sliced through the waves—Ian, eyes wide. "Leah, don't freak out! I'm coming!"

Then a scream cut in behind him.

"Ian! My leg—cramp! I can't move!"

He froze.

Cecilia was flailing, halfway under.

Through the blur, Leah saw Ian glance at her—just once—then turn and swim straight for Cecilia.

His back vanished into the waves.

Her arms dropped. Whatever strength she had left drained out.

As she sank, Leah closed her eyes, a faint, bitter smile tugging at her lips.

What had she even been hoping for?