Chapter 1

Right before my wedding, Andrew Collins' childhood friend Olivia Grant returned from overseas.

At her welcome party, Olivia pushed me into the pool—knowing full well I couldn't swim.

I nearly drowned. When they finally dragged me out, I was furious.

But Andrew didn't ask Olivia to apologize. He thought I was just causing trouble and making wild accusations.

Then it got worse. On the day we were supposed to pick out my wedding dress, Andrew bailed.

He went to help Olivia tune her piano instead and even played the song he'd composed for our wedding.

The song he'd said was only for our special day.

I confronted him. "Why?"

He shrugged. "It's my song. I'll play it for whoever I want."

So what was I to him?

I'd told him before, "Andrew, you get three strikes with my heart. If you waste them, I'm gone for good."

This was strike one, Andrew.

*****

"Sophia, don't just sit there—go join them!" Olivia grinned and grabbed my arm, shoving me straight into the pool.

"No, I—" Before I could finish, water flooded my nose and mouth.

Panic hit hard. I instinctively flailed, screaming, "Help! Help!"

The crowd just stood there. Some even laughed.

"Sophia is such a drama queen. The water's not even deep!"

I searched desperately for Andrew, but he was partying with friends by the poolside, completely oblivious.

Finally, someone realized something was wrong and pulled me out.

I collapsed on a lounge chair, gasping and soaked, too exhausted to move.

Olivia hurried over with a towel, her voice soft. "Sophia, I didn't mean to. I just wanted you to have fun."

Still fuming from almost drowning, I snapped, "Bullshit. You knew exactly what you were doing.

I glared at her. "If anything had happened to me, that would've been attempted murder."

Olivia looked at me, her eyes instantly welling up, her voice sounding extremely aggrieved. "Sophia, it was just a joke. Why are you making this so awkward?"

"Enough!" Andrew stormed over, looking annoyed. "Sophia, stop being so dramatic. Quit giving Olivia a hard time—it's not that serious."

I stared at him. "Where were you when I fell in? You know I can't swim."

He shrugged. "You're fine now, aren't you?

"Besides, if you can't swim, just learn. What, you planning to wait for someone to rescue you every time?"

I looked down so no one would see how hurt I was.

Andrew had known for ages that I couldn't swim.

I'd told him about nearly drowning as a kid, about being terrified of water ever since.

Back then, he'd hugged me tight, speaking with such conviction and tenderness.

"Sophia, I'll protect you forever. If anyone's drowning, it'll be me first."

Those words had meant everything to me.

Now it was like he'd forgotten—including my warning: hurt me three times, and I'm gone.

This was strike one, Andrew.

After that whole mess, the party mood was ruined, and things quickly wrapped up early.

Andrew's car pulled up from the garage.

Olivia slid into the passenger seat before I could move, then acted surprised.

"Oops, sorry, Sophia! I guess I'm just used to it—I always sat up front with Andrew before."

She offered a playful, tongue-out apology, but with her butt glued to the seat, she made no effort to rise.

I crossed my arms and stared at her coldly.

Andrew didn't think anything was wrong. He urged impatiently, "Hurry up. Are you getting in or not?

"I've always seen Olivia as a little sister. Why make a fuss? It's just a seat—let her have it."

I didn't answer. I opened the back door and got in.

The whole drive, Andrew and Olivia laughed and joked up front.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen him that happy.

It was mostly awkward silence or fighting between us.

There was an invisible wall—Andrew and Olivia on one side, me on the other. Like we belonged to different worlds.

They really were a perfect match.

Even though Olivia's place was closer, Andrew dropped me off first.

"I'll take you home, then drive Olivia back and visit her parents. Haven't seen them in ages," he said.

I lowered my eyes, keeping quiet.

As far as I knew, he'd been there two days ago. "Ages," right.

When I got home and finished my shower, my phone rang. My boss.

"Sophia, higher-ups just assigned a major project. I know you can handle it—pull this off and you're looking at a promotion and raise.

"But heads up, it'll take a while and you'll basically be working in isolation. Aren't you getting married soon? I don't want this to interfere.

"Still, as your supervisor, I had to let you know. Whatever you decide, I support you."

Before, I would've said no immediately.

Now, I wasn't even sure if our wedding would still happen.

I asked, "Can I think about it? I need to talk to my fiancé."

"Of course, this is a big deal. But I need an answer in three days. I have to submit the list."

After I hung up, I found myself zoning out, staring at the clay figurine on my shelf.

Andrew had made it when we first started dating.

It was two tiny figures hugging each other, but now, it was worn and faded, with a small crack running right through the middle.