The doctors and nurses around him shot cold, judgmental glances, but Zayn's jaw tightened as he refused to let go. With no other option, the doctor had no choice but to send Michelle away first. Zayn followed the ambulance without a second glance. And then, the whispers began to circle around me.

"This guy's too righteous. Sure, his wife caused the accident, but this is cold."

"Isn't that the handsome captain from the rescue team? I swear, I even promised to marry him once. Lucky for me, though, God didn't come through."

"Stop it. Maybe his wife really did something unforgivable…"

The voices faded as I drifted into unconsciousness, and just before the ambulance arrived, everything went black. Zayn dove into the water, holding Michelle close, never once looking back at me. The rescue team member nearby, seeming to think I was the one to blame for the accident, rushed toward me with impatience, pulling me toward the shore. Not a single person seemed to care about my critical condition.

When I was finally on solid ground, red rashes began to break out on my body, itching like crazy, a sign of decompression sickness. My arms, covered in painful bites, and my bruised abdomen throbbed with excruciating pain, but no sound came out. My vision blurred as I started to fade out, and by the time the ambulance arrived, I had no more tears left to cry. They'd already dried up in the sea.

Zayn's eyes were red, frantic, as he grabbed the doctor by the arm. "Save Michelle first!" he demanded, voice hoarse.

The doctor shook off his grip. "I understand you're upset, but she's not badly injured. She can wait for the next ride. This woman clearly needs help first." The doctor pointed to me, lying in a bloody heap in the corner.

Zayn refused to let go of the doctor's stretcher. "The woman over there is my family, but she caused the accident. Save the victim first. I'll take full responsibility for any delay in treatment for my wife."

Michelle, trying to be the voice of reason, added, "Zayn, your wife is pregnant."

The doctors and nurses around him barely spared us a glance, but Zayn's grip didn't loosen. The doctor sighed, defeated, and sent Michelle off first. Zayn followed her ambulance, not sparing me another look.

I could hear the whispers around me growing louder.

"This man's too righteous. Even if his wife caused the accident, he's being so cold to the child."

"Isn't that the diving rescue captain? I swear, I promised to marry him once. Good thing it never worked out."

"Stop saying that. Maybe his wife did something unforgivable…"

The voices blurred as I slipped deeper into unconsciousness. In the haze of my dream, I found myself back when we first met in the diving team. At that time, Michelle, Zayn's girlfriend of five years, had just won the underwater mermaid princess competition. She was about to leave for a high-paying job abroad and break up with Zayn.

It was during a dive when I accidentally inhaled water, nearly choking, and it was Zayn who saved me just in time. I vaguely remembered him lifting me out of the water and giving me mouth-to-mouth under the warm sunlight. Maybe it was the "suspension bridge effect" or just the rumors swirling about his love life, but from that moment on, I was hooked on Zayn, the Maldivian diving rescue captain.

To stay close to him, I became a diving coach in the Maldives. I worked tirelessly to collect the specific diving gear he wanted, all in hopes of catching his attention. I signed up for the deep diving competition, pushing myself to the edge of suffocation, just to make Zayn notice me. Every day, I prepared his meals, set up his gear, and even helped him with his diving logs, just hoping for a hint of his admiration.