Celeste stepped back slightly, surveying Isabela with an exaggerated, theatrical smirk, clearly savoring the attention of the gathered crowd surrounding the pool deck. "Who's winning this?" she called out mockingly, loud enough for guests standing several feet away to hear clearly, before giving Isabela one final, dismissive push toward the pool's edge.
Isabela's arms flailed briefly as she lost her footing, stumbling backward off the stone deck and crashing into the pool below with a heavy, unmistakable splash. Gasps rippled instantly through the crowd of wedding guests, several stepping forward in alarm, though none moved quickly enough to prevent the fall.
Celeste threw her head back and laughed, the sound sharp and unrestrained, echoing across the water as guests around her exchanged horrified glances, several already lowering their phones in visible discomfort at what they had just witnessed. The blurred faces of the crowd behind her mixed shock with quiet disapproval, though nobody yet dared to confront the bride directly.
In the pool, Isabela rose slowly to the surface, her dark hair plastered against her face, her black dress clinging heavily to her frame as she treaded water for a brief moment before swimming calmly toward the pool's edge. She didn't appear angry. She didn't appear embarrassed. If anything, her expression carried a quiet, deliberate calm that felt entirely out of place given what had just happened to her.
Celeste's laughter began to fade slightly as she watched Isabela climb out of the pool with unhurried composure, water streaming from her dress, her expression utterly unreadable. Something about the stillness in Isabela's eyes sent a faint, unfamiliar chill through Celeste, though she quickly dismissed it, too caught up in her own performance to consider what it might mean.