She reclined by the pool, the afternoon sun flickering off her red swimsuit and heart-shaped sunglasses. The air smelled of chlorine, citrus lotion, and the faintest hint of trouble. She raised her martini glass, but her eyes stayed locked on the water.
A ripple broke the mirror-smooth surface — too big for a breeze. Something silver flashed beneath. Her stomach tightened. She told herself it was nothing, but the same flicker appeared again, closer this time.
The lounge chair creaked as she stood. The cool deck tiles pressed against her bare feet while she leaned over the edge. At the bottom lay a small velvet pouch, drifting like a leaf. No one else seemed to notice.
She glanced around. The lifeguard was busy scrolling on his phone. The family in the shallow end laughed at an inflatable flamingo. It was just her and that pouch. She set her drink down and slid into the pool, slow and silent.
The water closed over her like glass. She dove deeper, fingers outstretched. When she opened the pouch, a flash of gold and paper swirled up. She caught it and kicked hard for the surface, lungs aching.
She emerged gasping, clutching a gold bracelet engraved with a date and a torn photograph of a young couple at this very pool decades ago. On the deck stood an older man, eyes glistening, hand trembling.
She climbed out, dripping, and placed the bracelet in his palm. He whispered her name — the one no one had spoken in forty years. She blinked, stunned. It was him.
He smiled, tears slipping down his face. “I left it for you. I hoped someday you’d come back.”
She slipped the bracelet onto her wrist. The noise of the pool faded, leaving only the hush of water and a sudden warmth between them. In that quiet moment, the past dissolved, and both of them realized they were finally free to begin again.
