Bull Market

The corporate pyramid had been good to Elena. Three promotions in five years, corner office with floor-to-ceiling windows, and a team of analysts who jumped when she said jump. But success had a way of calcifying the soft parts of you, leaving only what was necessary for survival.

"You're still playing padel?" David's voice carried across the clubhouse restaurant. He looked older than she remembered—gray at the temples, lines around eyes that had once crinkled easily with laughter. He'd been her first friend at the company, the one who showed her where the good coffee was hidden, who covered when she mistakenly CC'd the wrong VP.

"Every Thursday." Elena gestured to the empty chair. "Join me?"

They hadn't spoken since the restructuring. When David's division got cut, Elena had stayed silent in the meeting. Hadn't fought for him, though she'd known the bull market metrics were fabricated. Had nodded when the CEO called it "strategic realignment." Had kept her head down while David packed his boxes.

"I saw your cat," David said now, studying the menu. "The stray that lives behind the building. You still feed her?"

"Bella. Yes." Elena's chest tightened. "She had kittens last month."

"And you're still climbing." His tone wasn't accusatory. Just tired.

The waiter brought their wine. Elena swirled her glass, watching the legs form and slide down the crystal. "The view from the top is different than you'd think. Lonelier."

"Pyramids always are." David's lips curved slightly. "Remember what you said that first week? 'I'll never become them.'"

Outside, a massive bronze bull sculpture stood guard over the business park—corporate art meant to symbolize strength and aggression. Elena had once hated it. Now she barely noticed it anymore.

"I miss who I was," she said quietly. "But I don't know how to be her and survive."

David reached across the table, covered her hand with his. "Then maybe survive isn't the right word anymore."

They played padel afterward, their old rhythm returning instantly. Elena's competitive edge softened into something gentler. They traded points and stories until sunset gilded the court. When David left, he hugged her—brief, sincere, carrying the weight of everything unsaid.

That night, Elena drafted her resignation letter. Outside her window, the corporate pyramid glittered against the dark sky, and somewhere in the shadows, Bella's eyes flashed like embers.