We Never Broke Up (A Second Chance Romance)

Chapter 9

Past

"I won't hurt you, I promise," Thad reassured me, gently holding my waist as he tried to coax me into the water.

We were in the backyard of his house, him sporting swimming shorts while I sat at the edge in my brand new swimsuit and undies.

"No, I'm scared," I protested, resisting his gentle pull by clutching onto his hands.

This had become a recurring argument between us.

"What if you lose your grip on me? I could drown, Thad," I whined.

"I won't. Don't you trust me?" he said, laughing.

"I do. But don't make fun of me," I complained, playfully smacking his arms. His response was a groan of mock pain.

"I'm not making fun of you, but that really hurts," Thad complained, pouting in mock pain.

"But you're laughing," I pointed out, gesturing to his grinning face.

"I am not," he protested before succumbing to another fit of laughter.

"Alright, babe, I'm sorry. Just swim with me this once," he pleaded, his hands still securely around my waist.

"No," I replied, shaking my head stubbornly.

"I'll pull you in, Sera," he threatened.

"No, you won't," I challenged.

"I will," he declared, and with that, he yanked me into the water by my waist. I let out a startled scream, quickly wrapping my arms around his neck as he swam us to the center of the pool, a mischievous smile on his face.

"See, nothing happened. I don't know why you're so scared of a pool, Seraphina," Thad remarked as we floated in the water.

I couldn't help but pout, burying my face into his neck.

Present

Memories of Thad flooded my mind, and I felt myself sinking deeper into the pool of nostalgia. The ache of missing him was almost unbearable, especially when we kept crossing paths and I had to pretend I didn't know

him.

The longing for his touch and his kisses was overwhelming, but I felt as helpless as I did eight years ago. As my eyelids drooped, I saw a figure lean into the pool, swiftly swimming towards me. who could it be?


Thad

I groaned with effort as I pulled her out of the water, laying her down carefully by the side of the pool.

"Sarah, Sarah. Can you hear me? Open your eyes, please," I pleaded, lightly tapping her cheek. There was no response from her.

Without wasting a moment, I began performing CPR, feeling the softnessbof her lips against mine. It wasn't perfect, but I knew I had to try.

I stopped compressions, looking down at her pale, wet face and the hair spread out on the ground. She looked so fragile and vulnerable.

I held her close to my chest, anxiously repeating, "Sarah, can you hear me? Please, open your eyes."

After a tense moment, I heard her cough, and I quickly moved her away from my chest. She spat out some water, trying to catch her breath.

I gently rubbed her back to help her calm down.

"Sera, Sera!" A voice called out, and we both turned to see a blonde-haired guy rushing toward us. I slowly withdrew my hand from her back, allowing

him to crouch down beside her.

"Oh, thank God, you're safe," the blonde-haired guy said, gripping Sarah's shoulders tightly. "I'll take it from here," he added, briefly glancing at me.

But why did he call her "Sera"?