Chapter 2

I clutched my chest, feeling like I was suffocating.

But then, a thought struck me: they were, after all, my husband and my best friend.

One was a powerful CEO, the other a renowned dance teacher. Both were people who cared deeply about their image in life.

Though I hated them, I couldn't let their dignity be so utterly stripped away in public.

I took a deep breath, rushed over, grabbed the matching swim trunks and bikini bottom they'd shed, and used them to cover their faces.

I collapsed to the ground, a raw wail tearing from my throat. "Please, everyone! No more pictures!"

"My husband and my best friend are dead! Can't you just let them rest in peace?" My cries held a twisted mix of fury and a profound, selfish ache.

Fury at their ultimate betrayal. And heartache for myself... for the mountain of paperwork and endless arrangements his death had dumped in my lap.

A crowd swelled around us, a wave of shocked murmurs rippling through it as my words sank in.

"Wait, so they weren't married? You're his wife? So this was...an affair?"

"Oh my god, her husband and her best friend! That's brutal!"

"No wonder they were out in the ocean... it was a secret rendezvous"

"They probably did this all the time, which is why it finally went wrong."

"That poor lady, witnessing their affair and then passing out!"

Listening to their comments, my chest felt crushed under a heavy stone, making it hard to breathe.

The young officer paused, then finally understood what I'd said. His expression softened with pity. "Ma'am, please get up, the ground is cold."

"By the way, do you... do you have any children?"

Yes, I did.

But Brandon was on his honeymoon with Camille's daughter, Brooke, and definitely wouldn't be answering my calls.

Still, facing so many sympathetic eyes, I dialed his number.

As expected, the moment he picked up, Brandon's voice was irritable. "What are you calling for again? Didn't I tell you not to bother Brooke and me?"

"Are you so miserable with Richard that you can't stand to see Brooke and me happy?"

I fought to keep my voice steady, the pain searing through me. "Son, your father is dead."

He paused, then burst into disbelieving laughter. "You're crazy."

"You'd drop dead before Richard ever would! Seriously, are you just miserable if you're not wishing death on him?!"

Next to him, Brooke's laugh chimed in. "Oh, Vivian, you know how she is. If it's nothing, just hang up."

I quickly cut her off, my sobs growing louder. "Brooke, your mother is dead too."

The air went silent for a few seconds.

Then, her shriek. "Vivian! My mom was just a little close to Richard! Do you have to curse her like that?! Their relationship was completely innocent! Do you just want to make everyone in this family miserable?!"

I ignored her, my voice dropping to a trembling, deliberate whisper. "They were doing it in the ocean. They cramped up. Got stuck. And died together."

Afraid she'd missed it, I repeated the words, slowly and clearly.

But they still didn't believe me.

Brandon was roaring now. "Afraid she'd missed it, I repeated the words, slowly and clearly! Don't you dare project your filth onto her! IThis is just your jealousy! You've always been jealous of Camille, and now you're taking it out on Brooke, trying to ruin our honeymoon!"

The officer, unable to stand it, took my phone. "I'm the officer investigating this drowning-"

He didn't even finish before Brandon furiously interrupted him. "Now you're even hiring actors for your little show?"

"Ha! Too bad! We won't fall for it!"

"Spread all the rumors you want! We'll deal with you when we get back from our honeymoon!"

With that, the call was disconnected.

I tried calling again, only to find I'd been blocked.

I closed my eyes tightly, saying nothing more.

The officer gently helped me into the ambulance. "It's alright, Ma'am. You passed out then, so you couldn't have known anything anyway. I won't question you further."

"Go to the hospital and get some rest. Then, you can start preparing for Richard's funeral."

As he spoke, several people covered Richard and Camille with white sheets.

Once the sheets were on, everything was hidden.

As if those naked, tangled images had never existed.

I looked at them, suddenly unsure whether to cry or laugh.

Cry? I had cried enough.

Laugh? I didn't dare.