Introduction
Their third wedding anniversary.
Sterling Ashford kicked Sloane Westbrook out of the car for his first love's "acute gastritis," then vanished into the pouring rain.
By the time he'd finished playing nursemaid to his first love and dragged himself home, Sloane was gone.
And when he found her ring and her suicide note, Sterling Ashford lost his mind—combing every inch of the ocean for her.
Chapter 1
The phone rang.
Sharp, sudden, like glass scraping tile, ripping a seam through the quiet of the restaurant.
Sterling's hand had just touched his wine glass. He froze, fingertips hovering over the rim for half a second, then turned toward the phone instead.
Two letters lit up the screen. “Vivian.” They pricked him like a thin needle.
He answered, and his voice softened in an instant, like it had been steeped in warm water.
"Vivian? …Why are you crying? Slow down, baby, take it easy… Where are you? Okay. Don't move. I'm coming."
The second he hung up, his knuckles went white around the phone, the kind of white that comes from forcing irritation down.
Sloane's hands paused on her knife and fork. The metal clinked softly against porcelain.
The butter on her steak had already congealed into a pale yellow film. The smell was deflating, slow and sad, like a balloon losing its air.
She watched him grab his coat. Watched his back. Something thick and cottony lodged in her throat.
"Sterling, you promised…"
He paused. Didn't turn around. His voice came out wrapped in the kind of impatience reserved for an interruption.
"Vivian's got acute gastritis. She can't even stand up. I have to go."
"Today is our third anniversary." Sloane's voice tightened, like an invisible hand had closed around her throat.
"You circled it on your planner last month. In red pen." She remembered every detail.
That day he'd been in his study going through documents. She'd brought him a plate of fruit, and her eyes had caught that bright red circle on the calendar. It had warmed something secret inside her for hours afterward.
Sterling finally turned. His brow knotted into a hard line, the irritation almost spilling over.
"Sloane, can you not be difficult about this? Vivian is alone at the hospital. How am I supposed to leave her like that?"
