Gregory watched the collapse of the desk in slow motion, the sick kind of slowness that ensured every detail was seared into his mind. Olivia was near the edge, sitting at a little round table with Caitlin and Mark. She stood up when the sound started, looking around in confusion as the solid deck beneath her feet became insubstantial.
The black silk train around her feet fluttered as she started to fall. The deck collapsed away from him, hiding her behind the other elegant people at the party. The screams of surprise and horror were lost in the tremendous bang of the wood against the water.
He ripped his jacket off, dropping it to the edge of the deck that remained. Gregory stripped his blue satin tuxedo vest and left it in a heap over his jacket. Next were his shoes and when the laces wouldn't come undone, he ripped them out. His wallet went into his shoes and he tore off his shirt, tucking his silver cufflinks into his shoes for safe keeping.
Ricardo caught his arm as he went for the edge and Gregory nearly punched him in frustration.
"You can't go in there, you're putting yourself at risk. Rescue workers will be here-"
Gregory shook him off with his eyes gleaming in the darkness like a cornered wolf. His reasons ran through his mind in a blur: Olivia's terrified of the water, she doesn't swim well, she's carrying our baby- but none of those thoughts made it to Ricardo.
All Ricardo got was a glare of defiance before Gregory dove into the dark water. His body complained bitterly as the cold water shot daggers into his flesh. After a moment however, his body started to adapt. Though the waves were high he stroked smoothly through them.
The ocean demanded respect, but Gregory knew how to handle demanding clients. Convince them they were in charge, share the sense of control and work with them. Working with the swell of the water saved his strength. The moon was dark behind a thick cloud and his eyes took awhile to adjust to the soft black of horizon and water. Beyond the splashing of his arms he could hear voices in varying levels of panic. He tuned in on the female voices, listening for familiar pitch. Caitlin and Olivia had both been near the edge of the deck. They'd be farther out.
Caitlin would be fine, he'd taught her how to swim personally. After Olivia's incident he had been careful to make sure both of his children were absolutely safe in the water. His wife had never gotten over her fear of the water. Olivia barely went in the pool unless she knew he was there in the water or on the edge.
He passed countless strangers swimming towards shore. One wave-drenched face stopped, recognizing him. It was Heather, the blonde fiance, she had an unconscious woman in tow.
"Olivia?" He yelled over the din of panicked voices, sirens and waves.
Heather shook her head. "Haven't seen her." She tilted her head towards the open ocean. "Casey might have. He's out farther."
Gregory pressed on, reminding himself that this was what all those mornings swimming laps in the pool were about. He found his stride, breathing easily as he demanded his body save his adrenaline for later. He hadn't even seen her yet. He passed a few more stragglers, clinging to bits of the once magnificent deck of the Deschanel ballroom. Most of them seemed all right, not that he would have stopped for them either way.
The water grew rougher as he got further from shore, surely she wouldn't be this far out. The salt water stung his eyes, but he forced the sensation away. He was in control. Casey was the figure making a neat wake through the water but as soon as he recognized him, Casey shook his head.
"I saw Caitlin, she helped Mark get some people to shore. Olivia should be near here." The lifeguard switched his grip on the injured man he was helping and met Gregory's eyes across the rolling water. "I don't have to tell you it's better to come back alive than die looking for someone."
Gregory didn't answer as he swam past the younger man. Casey hadn't been in love long enough to understand. He had to find Olivia, that was it. That was the only reason to keep swimming. He coasted down the crest of a swell, riding the water down into the trough. At the crest of the next one a lucky shaft of moonlight lit something in the water. Something still that resisted the motion of the water.
Maybe it was fate or his own stubborn determination, but Gregory knew it was her. The rush of the ocean threw them together, crashing his body into hers. His reward for his stubborn refusal to give up, not to Cole, not to chance- never.
She was barely conscious, but her arms went weakly around his neck as she realized he was more than the hallucinations of a waterlogged mind. Gregory ran his hands down her body, performing the double task of searching for injuries and checking to see if she could move in her dress. He reassured her he'd return and dove beneath the surface. The expensive silk of her dress tore along the seam up to her hip with a little encouragement. Her shoes were already gone.
Panic started to set in as she realized where she was. He tightened his arm around her shoulders and tilted her head up towards the sky. Her hand dug nervously into the thin fabric of his undershirt, but Gregory concentrated on his stroke, remembering the lifeguard training he'd undergone just to spite his father so many years ago. Shore always looked farther than it was. If he just kept going, he'd reach it.
Caitlin crawled up on the beach, feeling the harsh sand abrade her soggy skin as the thin fabric of her dress failed. The expensive creation of featherweight tulle was absolutely destroyed. Mark flopped down on the beach at her side. Rescue crews, ambulances, even boats and lights were all mobilized now. Like a line of penguins the black and blue dressed partygoers emerged from the sea. No one seemed seriously hurt. The ambulances disappeared into the night without sirens.
When her breath returned and her legs remember how to hold her up, Caitlin left Mark with a simple apology. "I have to find my parents."
He jumped up too polite to let her search for possible bad news on her own. "I'll go with you."
There was no way to tell Mark that it hurt that her father hadn't looked for her. That he hadn't found her, or shouted for her. She couldn't help worrying that something had happened to him. They walked slowly, holding hands in like shell-shocked children after a bombing. Some of the people were laughing, a few of them were drying off and asking about their drinks. AJ, the man who was running all of this, was no where to be seen.
Mark saw her parents first and pointed helpfully. "There they are, with that doctor."
Her mother was a mess, makeup smeared dark across her face and her hair plastered to her head in a mockery of her elaborate French knot from that afternoon. Blood and dark smudges, more makeup from her mother's face, adorned her father's white undershirt. A young deputy handed him a bundle of jacket, shirt and shoes that he took with a smile and set at his bare feet.
Caitlin wondered what had happened to his socks as she watched her parents trade glances. The doctor, some woman she didn't know, was fussing over the unborn brat her parents loved so much. It didn't matter that a gash on her father's arm was dripping blood slowly onto the neat pile of his clothes at his feet. Or that her father looked small with his wet tuxedo pants clinging to his legs. Her mother came first for the doctor.
She remembered Gregory shoving her away on the beach when she was a child. Heard him tell her for the hundredth time that her mother needed him, and he'd see her when mommy was better. Olivia came first. For some damn reason, no matter what she did, Olivia came first in her father's heart.
Why hadn't she ever seen that before? How had she been so deluded? Her father could never love her, because Olivia had to come first. Cole's death had hurt, stung through to the bottom of her heart and made her cry like she'd never be able to stop. This pain was different. It didn't burn and it didn't tear through her chest. It just settled into the middle of her chest, cold and numbing. It was as if a stone had taken the place of her heart and it was taking all the heat from her body.
She was lost, stunned breathless and for the first time in her life, without guidance. Cole was dead and her father- Caitlin watched him put his dry tuxedo jacket around her mother's shoulders and smile gently as the female doctor started to clean the gash on his arm. Her father could no longer be trusted but even that terrible realization couldn't dislodge the cold from her chest. Caitlin had her pain to keep her company because that couldn't betray her.