Submerge

W A T E R

M A S O N

I stood at the edge of the pool, the air thick with the faint scent of chlorine. My heart was pounding in my chest, a slow, steady thud that echoed louder than the quiet ripples in the water before me. I couldn't look at it for more than a few seconds before my gaze would dart away, my stomach twisting in knots.

Behind me, I could hear Ethan's soft footsteps, the sound of his voice gentle but steady. "You don't have to do anything, Mas," he said, his tone laced with understanding. "Just stand here with me. That's all. Nothing else."

I nodded, even though my throat felt tight, and my mouth was dry. The pool stretched out in front of me, endless and deep, like it had swallowed up everything good that swimming used to represent in my life. The memories of being in the water—feeling powerful, weightless, free—had been buried beneath the trauma, suffocated by fear, guilt, and shame.

The fear wasn't rational, I knew that. But knowing didn't make it easier.

Ethan moved to stand next to me, close but not too close, like he knew exactly how much space I needed. I was grateful for that. He didn't push. He never pushed. That's one of the reasons I loved him.

"Take your time," he said quietly, his voice low and soothing. He wasn't in a rush, and he wasn't expecting anything from me.

I glanced at him, my eyes lingering on the way he looked at the water with a kind of ease that I had lost. Ethan could swim—hell, he loved it. He had never been scared of it, had never had it turn into something dark and overwhelming.

"I hate this," I mumbled under my breath, my fists clenched at my sides.

Ethan glanced at me, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I know. But you're here, and that's something. Just being here is a big step."

I let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the water's presence pressing against my chest. Memories flashed in my mind—memories of the Lakehouse, of the water that had taken Emma from me, of how powerless I'd felt standing there, unable to save her. My hands trembled, and I clenched them tighter, trying to push the memories away.

"It's just water," I whispered, more to myself than to Ethan. "It's just water."

Ethan nodded, his voice soft but firm. "That's right. And you don't have to do anything you're not ready for, Mas. I'm here, okay? I've got you."

I swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in my throat. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that I could do this—that I could face the water again and not feel like it was going to drag me under, pull me down into the darkness. But the fear clung to me, wrapping itself around my chest like a vice, making it hard to breathe.

Ethan stepped closer, his hand brushing against mine. I didn't pull away. His touch was grounding, like an anchor keeping me tethered to the present moment instead of the overwhelming tide of memories threatening to drown me.

"Do you want to try touching it?" Ethan asked gently, his voice careful and without pressure. "Just a toe in the water. No more."

My eyes flickered toward the pool, the surface of the water calm, almost inviting. I stared at it, my mind racing, my body stiff with fear. It felt like the water was mocking me, daring me to take that first step, knowing that the moment I did, everything would come crashing down.

But then I felt Ethan's hand, warm and steady against mine, and I realized I wasn't alone. I had him beside me. And maybe, just maybe, I could do this. Not for the old Mason—the champion swimmer who used to live for the water—but for the person I was now. The person I was trying to become.

Slowly, I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. "Okay," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Just... just a toe."

Ethan smiled softly.

I took a deep breath, my fingers tightening around his for a moment. And then, before I could second-guess myself, I slipped off my shoes and stepped forward, dipping my toes into the shallow end of the pool.

The water was cold against my skin, and I flinched instinctively, but I didn't pull away. I kept my foot there, submerged just beneath the surface, feeling the slight resistance of the water around me.

It didn't drag me under. It didn't pull me into the depths.

It was just water.

Then, without a word, Ethan let go of my hand and stepped toward the pool. I felt a sudden spike of panic as his touch left me, my body tensing at the thought of being alone, but I didn't move.

"Hey," he said, his voice calm as he kicked off his shoes. "I'm just going to get in. I'll be right here."

I watched as he slowly slid into the water, his movements deliberate and slow, like he didn't want to startle me. He waded out a little, just until the water reached his waist, and then he turned to face me. There was something in his expression that made the knot in my chest loosen, just a little.

The water rippled around him, soft waves brushing against his body. He looked completely at ease, as if the water was an extension of him, like it belonged to him in a way it no longer did to me. A pang of envy shot through me, but it was quickly followed by something else—something lighter.

"See?" Ethan said, his voice light and easy. "Just water."

I swallowed hard, my throat tight as I watched him standing there. He made it look so easy. Like the water wasn't something to be feared. Like it wasn't something that could swallow you whole and leave you gasping for air. But for me, it had been. For so long.

"You can join me, if you want," Ethan added, his voice careful, gentle. "But you don't have to. I'll be right here, no matter what."

I stared at him, the water swirling around him, the soft light from the pool casting a glow on his skin. He looked safe. He felt safe. And for the first time, I didn't feel like the water was mocking me. It was just there, waiting.

I shifted on my feet, the cold tile of the pool's edge pressing against my heels. My mind raced with a million reasons why I shouldn't take that step, why it was dangerous, why I couldn't do it. But then I looked at Ethan again, the way he was waiting for me with that soft smile, his hand outstretched, patient and steady.

I took a deep breath.

"Okay," I whispered, barely able to hear myself.

Slowly, I stepped forward, the cold water creeping up my legs as I slid into the pool. My heart pounded in my chest, the panic still lingering at the edges of my mind, but Ethan was there. Right in front of me, his hand reaching for mine.

I grabbed onto it, the warmth of his touch anchoring me as the water rose around us. It didn't feel the way I remembered. It wasn't suffocating. It wasn't pulling me under. It was just water.

Ethan squeezed my hand gently. "You're doing great, Mas. I'm proud of you."

His words made something in me crack open, and I felt the tears well up in my eyes, mixing with the water. 

I clung to him, my body trembling, I wasn't sure how long we stayed like that, floating together in the shallow end of the pool, but for the first time in a long time, I wasn't afraid. I wasn't running. I was just... there.