I stared at ceiling.
“You were lucky.”
I hated that word.
Lucky.
Lucky somebody saw.
Lucky guests jumped.
Lucky pool was nearby.
Lucky I didn't hit head.
Lucky surgery wasn't completely ruined.
Lucky.
Maybe.
But luck felt insulting when someone had intentionally created danger.
Still, the surgeon was right.
I was alive.
That mattered.
By noon, Mom told me the wedding had officially been canceled.
Guests were leaving.
Some stayed another night because travel arrangements could not change.
Flowers were donated to a nursing home.
Food had already been prepared, so Daniel asked resort to serve it to guests anyway rather than waste it.
The cake remained untouched.
Someone posted photographs online.
Then someone else posted a short video.
Vanessa pushing me.
Not the fall itself.
The seconds immediately before.
It had been captured accidentally by a guest filming the lake.
You could see me turn.
Vanessa approach.
Her hands.
My body leaving frame.
Then shouting.
The internet did what the internet does.
Within twelve hours strangers had opinions about all of us.
I asked everyone not to send me anything.
Some did anyway.
“Bride pushes recovering sister into pool.”
“Wedding canceled after shocking incident.”
“Fiancé calls off ceremony.”
I wanted to disappear.
Vanessa called repeatedly.
I blocked her.
Then she emailed.
Emily,
I am sorry.
I know you're angry.
I know what happened looked horrible.
I was upset and I made a stupid impulsive decision.
I did not intend to hurt you.
You know I would never intentionally risk your life.
Daniel is ending our entire relationship over something that lasted two seconds.
Mom won't speak to me.
Everyone is acting like I am a monster.
Please tell them this was an accident.
I stared at the final sentence.
Not:
Please forgive me.
Not:
Are you okay?
Tell them this was an accident.
I forwarded it to myself.
Then did not answer.
Monday, police contacted me.
Someone at resort had called during incident.
A report existed.
Did I want to make statement?
I hesitated.
Mom sat nearby.
She said nothing.