The Heart-Shaped Bubble He Made for Her at 30 Meters Chapter 01

The Heart-Shaped Bubble He Made for Her at 30 Meters Chapter 01

For six years, I worked as support staff on Evan Sterling’s dive expeditions. During that time, he became the highest-paid underwater photographer in the industry.

Once, I pleaded softly, “Could you take me down to the blue hole just once? I want to see that perfectly silent world you’re always talking about.”

He kept wiping down his dive mask without even looking up.

“The pressure down there is intense. I’m going in to work. How am I supposed to look after you too?”

I said okay. From then on, I stayed topside, sorting and checking his air tanks.

Then one night, while backing up his files, I clicked open a hidden folder.

More than thirty underwater videos showed the same girl swimming through the frame in pink fins.

The newest one was from a night dive the week before. In the black water, Evan had pulled the regulator from his mouth and blown her a perfect heart-shaped bubble.

The caption read, [Turns out it isn’t lonely a hundred feet down, not when you’re beside me.]

He had given all the romance of the deep to someone else, yet he had never spared me so much as a single bubble or sent even the faintest echo of it back to me onshore.

After six years, I was done listening to the waves and waiting in fear for him to surface.

If there was no room for me in his depths, then I would head west into the high desert and find a horizon of my own.

***

When Evan came home at four in the morning, his wetsuit was still damp.

He set his equipment case down by the door, then immediately glanced at my bare feet.

“Why aren’t you wearing socks again? The tile’s cold.”

He bent down, pulled a pair of slippers from the entryway cabinet, and set them beside my feet.

I stood in the living room holding a mug.

“Drink this. I made you some ginger tea.”

He took it and drank a few sips. The tension between his brows eased.

“Yours actually helps. The new assistant on the boat makes terrible ginger tea.”

Evan reached out and touched my forehead.

“Not feeling well?”

His palm still carried the faint smell of seawater.

I turned my head, avoiding his hand.

His fingers froze in midair.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Lena, whenever you say ‘nothing,’ something’s wrong.”

“I saw the videos in your hidden folder.”

The living room went silent for several seconds.

“You went through my computer?”

“I was backing up your files.”

“That still didn’t give you the right to open something private.”

I looked at him.

“Evan, didn’t you say diving a hundred feet down was too dangerous and that you wouldn’t have the bandwidth to look after me?”

He rubbed the space between his brows.

“Hailey is certified.”

“So am I.”

Evan froze for a moment.

“When did you get certified?”

“Doesn’t matter anymore.”

He stepped closer, his voice softening.

“Lena, that blue hole isn’t an ordinary dive site. If you really want to go, I can make time to start you in shallow water and work up from there. Okay?”

I remembered Hailey Dawson turning in front of his camera in those pink fins.

A WhatsApp voice note from Hailey came in, and Evan instinctively reached for his phone.

I got there first and played it on speaker.

“Evan, my ankle still hurts a little. Could you pick me up for the photo review tomorrow? I’m worried I won’t be able to walk very well on my own.”

Evan glanced at me.

“She twisted her ankle getting off the boat today.”

I nodded.

“So you’re picking her up?”

“She’s part of the team. I can’t just ignore it.”

He paused, then added, “I’ll take you to get your stomach checked first, then go get her. You had stomach pain last week and still haven’t seen anyone about it, right?”

He still remembered my stomach trouble.

But he also remembered Hailey’s ankle and her love of pink fins, and he had blown a heart-shaped bubble for her.

I set his phone back on the coffee table.

“Don’t bother. I’ll go by myself.”

“Don’t do this just because you’re upset.”

He reached for my wrist.

“Lena, I really have been busy lately. Once the Blue Hole project is over, I’ll take some time off so we can get away together. Haven’t you always wanted to go to Santa Fe? I’ll take you to see the Rio Grande Gorge.”

I had been telling him for six years that I wanted to visit Santa Fe, and he always said we would go once he finished whatever project he was working on.

I pulled my hand free and headed for the bedroom.

“I’m not going to the photo review tomorrow.”

Evan remained where he was.

“Lena, that’s the most important presentation of my work this year. You’re handling logistics for the project. What will it look like if you don’t show up?”

Before the door closed, I heard him sigh in the living room.

Then his phone chimed again with a WhatsApp voice note from Hailey.