Fuck, she had nearly drowned. And yet, I couldn’t stop the surge of want, inappropriate and raw, cutting through the adrenaline.
I forced my eyes up, away, anywhere but the swell of her chest beneath that soaked fabric.
Sera caught me looking.
AIR
Her eyes widened, and a flush rose across her cheeks, deeper than the sunburn blooming there. She folded her arms over her chest, hugging herself tightly.
I opened my mouth to speak-to apologize, maybe, or explain-but she was already pushing herself to her feet as Daniel returned with a large towel.
“I should…I should get lunch started,” she muttered, voice frayed. She took the towel from
Daniel, smiling softly. “You two stay here.”
Daniel reached for her, worry clouding his expression. “Mom-“
“I’m fine, sweetheart,” she said more gently, ruffling his damp hair. “Stay and play with your dad. I’ll call you when lunch’s ready.”
And just like that, she turned, wrapping the thick towel around her, leaving me kneeling in the sand with my chest still heaving and my pulse refusing to calm.
I had saved her. But I had also lost something again-something I hadn’t even realized I was still chasing.
***
By the time I came down from my room for lunch, the table on the terrace was already set.
The scent hit me first-fresh herbs, garlic, something citrusy layered beneath the salt of the sea breeze.
My stomach twisted; not just from hunger but from the memory of Sera slipping under the waves that morning.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her limp in my arms.
Now she stood by the table, arranging serving spoons as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
Her hair was still damp-from the ocean or a shower, I didn’t know-darker at the ends where it brushed her shoulders, and she’d changed into another soft blouse and shorts, her skin sun-kissed from the morning.
The spread was…too much. Grilled fish, seasoned just the way my father liked it, with lime and pepper. A salad with roasted walnuts and cranberries-my mother’s favorite.
Even the rice had the crispy fried shallots Daniel loved crunching on.
And for me, a steak, cooked rare, exactly how I preferred, though she’d once told me she couldn’t stand the sight of red on a plate.
For a moment, none of us spoke. My parents exchanged a glance, one I couldn’t quite decipher.
Daniel, of course, broke the silence, clapping his hands and bouncing into his chair.
“Mom, you made all of this?!” His voice cracked with excitement.
She chuckled. “Hey, you said you missed my cooking.”
“But you didn’t have to cook for us, too, dear,” my mother said softly.
Sera shrugged, not looking at her, busying herself with pouring Daniel coconut water into his dolphin straw.
“Old habits die hard, I guess.”
An unpleasant memory flashed in my head-Daniel’s birthday, Sera slaving away in the kitchen, making seven different dishes to cater to everyone’s niche tastes. Not a single
‘thank you’ in return.
My chest clenched.
Daniel beamed. “Can we eat now? Please?”
“Of course, baby.”
I caught myself staring at her hands as she served him first, making sure his plate was colorful, balanced-because she knew that was the only way to keep him interested long enough to finish it all.
She didn’t even look my way as she moved around the table, silent, graceful, careful not to take up too much space.
And that hit harder than I expected. For years, I’d let myself believe she was cold. Aloof.
That she sat at my table out of obligation, not care.
But watching her now, I remembered how I used to ignore little details like this.
How she’d once tried to do the same thing-cater to tastes I never acknowledged, tried to find common ground with me, involve herself in pack activities.
I hadn’t seen her efforts then. Maybe I hadn’t wanted to.
Daniel dug in noisily, humming with delight as he chewed. My father actually smiled. My mother murmured her thanks.
And me? I found myself gripping the fork as if it were the only thing keeping me steady.
Because the truth was unavoidable: Sera didn’t just prepare lunch. She reminded all of us, without a word, of the place she’d always deserved at this table. In this family.
And it was me-always me-who had denied it to her.
CIR
SERAPHINA’S POVO
Daniel was warm in my arms when I tucked the covers around him later that night.
“Mom?” His voice was small, barely above a whisper. His lashes fluttered as though he were already half-asleep, but I knew my son-his mind never rested easily.
“Yes, love?” I smoothed his hair back, needing the steady rhythm of the motion more than he did.
“Are you okay?” His dark eyes blinked open, wide and searching.
The question hit deeper than I expected, pulling tight against the ache I’d carried all day.
I hesitated. My throat still felt raw from the water I’d swallowed, from the moment everything had gone black under the sea.
And behind my ribs, my heart kept replaying the terrifying seconds between sinking and waking-only to find myself nestled under Kieran, his mouth pressed to mine.
The memory burned like a brand. The way his breath had rushed into me, the way his hands had trembled as though he feared he might lose me.
I forced the it down, pushing it deep where Daniel couldn’t see it in my eyes.
“I’m fine,” I told him, the lie tasting like the salt of the ocean. “Just a little shaken, sweetheart.”
His mouth curved into a sleepy smile. “Good. ‘Cause I don’t like it when you scare me.”
I laughed softly, though the sound broke around the edges. “I’ll try not to make a habit of it.”
He reached out, catching my hand. His fingers were small but strong, his grip stubborn in that way he’d inherited from his father.
“You were with us all day,” he murmured, already drifting. “It was the best.”
My heart squeezed. He wasn’t wrong. Despite the near-tragedy, the rest of the day after lunch had been something rare, something beautiful.
I’d never been part of the Blackthorne family vacations before. They’d always gone without me-Kieran, Daniel, Leona, Christian, the perfect picture.
And me? I was the invisible mother, the shadow left behind, the woman whose absence no one seemed to notice.
But today had been different.
Daniel’s laughter had carried over the beach, ringing brighter than the gulls. He’d made sure we stayed away from the ocean, but he’d dragged me from the shade to show me seashells, we’d built sandcastles, chased crabs, and Kieran had even let us bury him up to his shoulders in the sand.
And despite the lingering tension between me and Kieran, Daniel’s joy had spread like wildfire, catching even Leona and Christian in its glow.
For the first time, I hadn’t felt like an outsider with my own family.
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