I almost said no.
Then curiosity won.
He apologized again.
He said the prank had originally been smaller.
Ryan wanted to smash cake into my face.
Then somebody joked about the pool.
Ryan loved the idea.
Matt said, "I told him your dress looked too heavy."
I felt sick. "What did he say?"
Matt hesitated. "He said you can swim."
That stayed with me.
I hadn't nearly drowned.
The pool wasn't deep. I managed to get my feet beneath me and push toward the edge, although the soaked fabric made every movement difficult.
But somebody had pointed out a risk.
Ryan had been warned about it.
And decided the video was still worth it.
Matt said, "I should've stopped it."
"Yes."
"I know."
"But Ryan is the one who pushed me."
"Yes."
That mattered.
I wasn't going to spread responsibility so widely that Ryan disappeared inside the group.
The legal process took months.
We didn't have much to divide because we'd kept most finances separate and never bought the house.
Grandpa's money stayed untouched.
He told me, "It's yours when you decide what you want it for."
Eighteen months later, I used part of it as a down payment on a small townhouse.
It was in my name only.
The first night there, Grandpa brought me a housewarming gift.
A ridiculous inflatable flamingo.
I stared at him.
"For the pool," he said.
"I don't have a pool."
"Exactly."
I laughed until my stomach hurt.
Grandpa is 84 now.
Still stubborn. Still sharp. Still complains about champagne.
Ryan and I are divorced.
I don't hate him.
