He doesn’t even look up. He tilts Vince’s head back and presses his mouth to his, forcing air into his lungs before pulling back and immediately starting compressions again, his movements sharp and practiced, like he’s done this before.
“Come on… come on,” he mutters quietly to himself, more like a passing thought than something meant for anyone else.
I stop a few steps away, my hands flying to my face without thinking, my breath breaking as the reality of it crashes into me all at once.
“No… no, no…”
This isn’t happening. It can’t be.
Because this is Vince.
Vince, who used to wait for me after school like it was the most normal thing in the world. Vince, who knew exactly how to calm me down when I got pissed off over nothing. Vince, who used to look at me like I was the only girl that existed.
My Vince.
Or at least… he used to be.
Ten years ago.
My chest seizes, something sharp twisting inside as I take another step forward, my eyes locked on him, on the way he doesn’t move or react.
This isn’t how this is supposed to end.
Not like this.
Not here.
“Vince…” I whisper again, the last syllable falling apart before I can hold it together.
“Sierra, hey, hey…” Tess’s voice cuts through, right next to me, as she grabs my arm, trying to pull me back. “It’s okay, it’s okay, he’s going to be fine.”
I shake my head, my eyes locked on Vince… The way his body lies there, completely still, like a statue frozen in time.
“He’s not waking up…” I barely get out, my chest tightening harder with every second that passes.
“Hey, look at me,” Tess insists, stepping in front of me and forcing my attention onto her. “He knows what he’s doing, okay? Cain is a professional swimmer; he’s my instructor. He’s got this.” Her words barely register at first.
Cain.The name lingers in my head longer than it should.
Behind her, Cain keeps going, completely focused, water dripping from his clothes as his hands press down on Vince’s chest again and again, his movements precise, controlled.
“Will someone call a fucking ambulance, for fuck’s sake?!” he barks, hands already slamming back against Vince’s chest before he even glances up.
Tess’s hold tightens around my arm.
“See? He’s doing everything right,” she adds quickly, like saying it out loud will make it true. But my eyes don’t leave Vince. Because something still feels wrong.
Cain
The second my hands touch his chest, I already know he’s gone. Not drowning. Not choking. Gone.
Still, I don’t stop.
My palms press down in a steady, practiced rhythm, my body moving on instinct while I count it out in my head.
One, two, three…
Breathe.
