Bull Market, Bear Heart

Marcus stared at the terminal, watching red numbers cascade like blood down the screen. The bull market had charged and retreated, leaving behind wreckage. His phone buzzed—Clara again.

"Did you pick up the prescriptions?"

"The vitamin supplements, yes. The other ones—they're三百 dollars a month, Clara."

Silence. Then: "I saw Dr. Chen. She says we're running out of time."

Marcus pressed his forehead against cold glass. At 42, he'd spent twenty years chasing wealth he now couldn't use. The firm's newest partner, a twenty-seven-year-old shark named Reynolds, had been circling his book of business like patience itself. Reynolds, with his bear-like frame and predatory grin, had dropped hints all week about Marcus's "distraction."

"I'm tired, Clara."

"I know. But Reynolds called me."

Marcus straightened. "He what?"

"He said you're losing it. Said you forgot the Johnson presentation. Asked if there was... something I should know."

The implications dripped like venom. Reynolds wasn't just circling—he was already feeding.

"What did you tell him?"

"That his wife left him for a yoga instructor. That his portfolio allocations are conservative enough for a nursing home. That if he calls again, I'll contact HR about hostile workplace environment."

For the first time in months, Marcus smiled. Clara had always carried the bear strength between them.

"Meet me for dinner?"

"Japanese. Then we pick up the vitamins. Then we go home and try again."

"The procedure?"

"Yes. Also the other trying."

Marcus hung up and turned back to his screens. The numbers still bled, but something had shifted. He opened his email and drafted a resignation letter. Tomorrow he'd tell Reynolds exactly what he could do with his bear market tactics. Tonight, he'd hold his wife and pretend they hadn't wasted two decades becoming people they didn't recognize.

The vitamins would wait. Some deficiencies couldn't be fixed with supplements.