Sink or Swim (Beach Kingdom 3)

Jiya doubled over, arms wrapped around her stomach. “Oh my God.”

“Are you all right over there, Jiya?”

“No.” A sob hiccupped out of her mouth. “Why would he do this?”

“You’ll have to ask him yourself.”

The way Rick said those words made Jiya straighten and turn around, half expecting Andrew to be standing there behind her. Waiting with open arms. So reassuring and solid. The man who knew her strengths, fears, favorites and never let her down. Ever.

Not until recently.

And she knew in that moment that there had to be a reason he’d let her go. A valid one. He would never push her away otherwise. He would never hurt her without a cause. She knew that. Her heart and bones and mind knew it, but she’d let doubt drown out the certainty.

Andrew had bought her flying lessons because he wanted her to soar, wanted her to have the thing she’d always wanted, without her knowing he’d been responsible for giving it to her—and that kind of selflessness went well beyond friendship. That kind of selflessness was vast and bottomless. It was love.

“He loves me,” Jiya whispered, relief crashing into her like a semi truck. “But he doesn’t want me to know. Why?”

Rick walked up next to her. “Why don’t we postpone until next week while you go find out?”

“I think that’s probably a good idea.”

He gave her a side hug and she returned it. “Good luck, kid.”

Jiya pulled out her cell phone while jogging back toward her parked car. She’d been brought back to life. Suddenly there was hope. There was the gut deep certainty that Andrew loved her and she was going to fight and scream until he admitted it and agreed to do something about—

She skidded to a halt and brought her ring finger into focus. How had she forgotten for even a second that she was engaged to another man? Promises had been made. With the accepting of Ajay’s proposal, her path had diverged from Andrew. She couldn’t just run to Andrew, as badly as she wanted to. It would be wrong.

Ajay’s parents were planning on investing in a restaurant. Putting her and Ajay at the helm. The opportunity was huge and generous. By marrying Ajay, she was securing her future and making her parents proud in one fell swoop, whereas her relationship with Andrew was anything but secure. It was confusing and tenuous and explosive.

Jiya took out her phone, her thumb sliding over the screen to pull up Andrew’s number.

She couldn’t call him, could she? Would speaking to each other frankly about their feelings be unfaithful now that she had agreed to marry someone else?

Before she could make a decision her phone rang, Jamie’s number popping up on the screen. She answered. “Hello?”

“Jiya…” He was upset. Breathing hard. So unlike Jamie that Jiya’s blood turned icy. “I didn’t know if I should call you, but—”

“It’s Andrew?” Her heart knew. Her heart had known all morning. Why hadn’t she listened? “It’s Andrew. What happened?”

“I don’t know. He’s in the hospital.”

A pitiful sound escaped her, like someone stepping on a child’s toy. “Is he okay? What happened? Did you talk to him?”

“I spoke to him. He’s injured but alive. Is he okay? I don’t know. I don’t think so.” He exhaled hard. Car doors slammed in the background. “His happiness isn’t your responsibility, Jiya. Do you hear me? But I thought you’d want to be there—”

“Shut up. Of course I do. Which hospital? I’m coming.” Hot tears rolled down her cheeks as she climbed into the car and started the engine with trembling hands. “I’ll be right there.”

As she drove, there was no sound inside the car except for her whispered prayers. She wasn’t even sure what she prayed for. Physically, Andrew was fine. She knew that. However, it felt like she’d been living a life with a veil draped over her eyes and it had suddenly been pulled back. What was coming? What didn’t she know?

None of those things mattered when she walked into the hospital forty minutes later and saw Andrew being wheeled by a male nurse through the lobby in a wheelchair, purple bruises and a line of black, nasty stiches marring his beautiful face. Jamie walked beside him, but Jiya couldn’t tear her attention off Andrew. They locked eyes from fifty yards away and she almost collapsed over the leapfrogging emotions she counted before he hid them.

Shock.

Joy.

Denial.

Bitterness.

Jiya threw her hair back and marched right toward them, though she wanted to crawl on her hands and knees. To lay her head in his lap and wail at his beat up condition. Who would do this? Who would inflict such vicious damage? “Why is he in a wheelchair?”

“Hospital policy,” Jamie explained. “He can walk just fine.”

Cool relief coasted down her spine. “Good.” She choked on her next words. “How dare you end up in the hospital the same day I find out you paid for my flying lessons. How dare you.”