Returning to the Surface

On the coast, where the water could punish and forgive in the same hour,

Theo dived for a living and breathed for a memory. He hadn’t gone deep since Nora’s accident,

not really. He pretended to, staying in the middle, where the light could reach him

and the stories didn’t press too hard. A storm dragged a boat onto the

rocks, and Theo’s phone rang before dawn. “Wedding ring,” the voice said.

“Went overboard when the mast snapped. We think it’s by the west buoy.” You don’t say no

to that call. He suited up, body remembering what his hands had been pretending

to forget. The boat creaked like a question. The water took him without ceremony.