"That was really sweet of him..." I murmur as I fill the only vase in the room with the bouquet. My fingers brush gently over the petals. He feels bad we missed out on diving. Thoughtful, considerate—unexpected.

"Sweet?" Liz snorts.

"That's not bloody sweet, Ashley. In the real world, that's called flirting. Sweet, my ass." She throws herself onto the bed, leaning back on her elbows like a sage dropping truth bombs.

"He's just being polite. The vouchers were his way of making up for hijacking the session—it was thoughtful, that's all." I try to sound sure. I want it to be simple. Uncomplicated.

"If it's that simple, then why wasn't my name on the envelope?" she shoots back.

I blink. "I don't know, Liz. Maybe because I'm the team lead? The representative? Maybe because I called you to help Liam? You're reading way too much into it."

"Okay, Ashley. You take it however you want. But I'm just calling it like it is." She flips on the TV and zones out.

I try to focus on my laptop, but guilt creeps in. I never thanked Harry.

"Can I get Harry's number?" I ask.

Without looking away from the screen, Liz tosses her phone toward the edge of the bed. "Same password," she mumbles.

I find his contact in seconds and switch to my phone.

A: Hey Harry! This is Ashley. Thank you for the flowers and the vouchers. That was really thoughtful of you. I appreciate it!

His reply comes back almost immediately.

H: Hi Ashley! I'm glad you liked them. Soooooo...

I smile.

A: Soooooo what?

H: What time should we meet tomorrow?

A: ?

H: For the diving thing. 😁

A: Oh, that. Ten-ish?

H: You thought you were going alone with Elizabeth, didn't you?

A: Yes. Hahahaha.

H: NOT A CHANCE!!! See you tomorrow at ten at the Splash, Ash. See? That rhymes.

I shake my head, amused. Ash. Nobody's ever called me that.

"He's joining us tomorrow for the diving," I tell Liz. "Well, they are. Ten o'clock."

"I figured from the note," she replies, eyes still on the TV.

"You did?"

"Course. He wouldn't miss it."

She finally looks at me and smirks.

I fight a smile. I really try.

The next morning, we meet Harry and Niall down at Splash. No sign of Liam or Louis, but I'm impressed—Liz manages to keep her drooling to a minimum.

Niall, now in a tank top, looks more defined than he did in a tee. But Harry? Harry's something else. He's effortless. His hair is pulled back in a low bun, and he's wearing white swim trunks and Ray-Bans. Same style as mine. I hate that I noticed.

They both greet us with warm smiles and kisses on the cheek.

"You have a thing for bandanas, don't you?" Harry says, grinning.

"I own way too many," I admit. 

"Same," he shrugs.

"You like them too?" I ask, surprised.

"He's got hundreds," Liz says casually, like she's known him for years.

I blink at her. How the hell would she know that?

Before I can ask, Wayne begins the safety briefing. Harry and Niall listen intently, while Liz and I exchange knowing looks—we've done this before.

Suited up in our dive gear, we board the boat. I catch Niall sneaking glances at Liz. She pretends not to notice, which is hilarious. Harry notices me noticing Niall, and he chuckles. When I glance at Niall again, he gives me a sheepish grin.

We anchor deep into the ocean, and Wayne gives us final instructions.

I check that my necklace is tucked into my wetsuit. The chain. The ring. Still there.

I'm the first to fall backwards into the sea.

Moments later, we're all submerged, floating weightlessly in a surreal world. The water is crystal clear, teeming with coral, fish, and flashes of colour that feel almost otherworldly.

I lead, staying just ahead of the group, keeping an eye on them. Wayne gestures for me to follow him—he's spotted something. I follow, but I'm distracted. Everything down here reminds me of Jason. His love for diving. For exploring. For this feeling. When I'm underwater, I don't just think of him—I feel him.

Wayne gestures again, trying to point something out. I don't see it. Then something brushes my leg. I startle.

It's Harry.

He points, then slowly signs:
T...U...R...T...L...E.

I look around but see nothing. Just open water. Then he takes my hand and gently points it downward—right beneath me, perfectly camouflaged, is a sea turtle. I gasp behind the mouthpiece. How did I not see it?

He helps me stroke its shell gently. It retracts, startled.

Then—snap.

My hair tie breaks. Strands of hair float everywhere, blinding me.

Harry swims closer. Without hesitation, he pulls an elastic band from his wrist, gathers my hair with careful fingers, and ties it into a bun. He doesn't speak, just meets my eyes through the masks, steady and calm.

I sign thank you and drift away.

Back on the surface, I exhale.

"Ash, you alright?" Harry asks, removing his gear.

"Yeah. I'm fine," I reply, climbing aboard.

"Thanks again for the experience," Liz tells Harry, wringing out her towel once we're back on the pier.

"You're welcome anytime," he says, grinning.

"What are you two up to now?" Niall asks, directing the question at me.

I shrug. "Not much. My speech is ready, and the event's not until later, so we've got the morning and evening free."

"Beach volleyball?" Liz suggests out of nowhere.

Niall raises an eyebrow. "Are you two even any good?"

Oh, no.

Liz stares at him, stunned. "You did not just say that."

"Elizabeth," I warn gently, already sensing the firestorm about to ignite.

Harry looks at me and lifts an eyebrow. Challenging.

"So you want to play us?" I ask, sliding on my sunglasses.

"Nah," Harry says with a cocky smirk. "It'd be like taking candy from a child."

And that's it. I'm in.

"Afraid of losing?" I tease.

He steps closer. "Tell you what—losers take the winners out for dinner. Deal?"

I don't even think. "Deal."

We shake on it.

It isn't until I feel his warm palm in mine that I realize what I've just agreed to. Dinner. With the boys. I say nothing. Liz is already bouncing in place.

Niall keeps teasing her as we head toward the volleyball court, telling her he'll go easy so she doesn't feel bad.

"Keep talking, Horan," she fires back. "I'll have your balls and serve them to you for lunch."

He instinctively shields himself. "Ouch!"

Harry howls with laughter. It's the first time I don't scold her.

Liz claps twice and grabs the ball from the pile. She's in full beast mode now.

They have no idea what they're in for.

The game is brutal—in the best way.

Liz is shouting things like, "You're my bitches!" and "Bow down, losers!" every time we score. Niall is stunned. Harry is sweating and clearly giving it his all, but we still wipe the sand with them.

When the final point is scored, Liz demands a verbal surrender.

"Let me hear it, Niall."

He groans. "Girls rule... girls are the best... boys suck."

"What was that?" she yells, cupping a hand to her ear. "Louder!"

He repeats it twice more while Harry just lies flat on the sand in mock defeat.

As we gather our things, exhausted and laughing, we begin the slow walk back toward the hotel.

"So..." Harry says, sidling up beside me. "What time should I pick you up?"

I glance at him. "What?"

"You heard me. A bet's a bet."

"Harry, we weren't serious..."

Before I can finish, Liz cuts in. "I was dead serious. I didn't just bust my ass and my lungs in there for nothing."

"I thought you busted my balls," Niall mutters.

"I need your balls intact, Niall," she replies without missing a beat.

We all burst into laughter.

And that's when I feel it.

My hand lifts instinctively to my neck.

Nothing.

I stop walking. Feel again. Nothing.

A strange silence floods my ears as the realization sets in.

"Oh my God." My voice is barely above a whisper.

Liz turns. "Ashley? What is it?"

But I've already dropped everything I'm holding and broken into a sprint.

I run back toward the court, heart pounding in my throat. I fall to my knees, digging through the sand, clawing at it in frantic handfuls.

The others arrive moments later, winded and confused.

"What's going on?" Niall asks, scanning the court.

I don't answer. I'm on all fours, hands searching, eyes burning.

"Ash—" Harry kneels beside me. "What's wrong? What are you looking for?"

I can't even form the words. My breath is shallow, sharp.

He reaches out and gently cups my face between his palms. "Ashley, look at me. Breathe. What are you looking for?"

"My chain," I whisper.

His eyes search mine. "Your necklace?"

I nod. "And... my ring."

"What kind of ring?" he asks softly, his voice barely audible.

"My wedding ring," I choke out, my voice cracking.

His face stills. His expression falls.

And only then do I realize—I'm crying.