Cable to Nowhere

The coaxial cable dangled from the wall like a dead snake, its copper heart exposed where the cat had chewed through the insulation three days ago. Sarah hadn't called the repair service yet. Letting the cable limp there seemed appropriate somehow—a monument to her marriage's slow decay.

"You need to eat something," Marcus said, pushing a bowl of wilted spinach toward her across the kitchen island. He'd taken up cooking lately, as if culinary competence could compensate for emotional abandonment.

"Not hungry."

"Sarah, please."

She'd met Jenna at the community pool twelve years ago—both of them young mothers, swollen with pregnancy hormones and existential dread. They'd drifted into friendship like leaves on water, effortless and inevitable. Last week, Sarah had seen Jenna's profile on LinkedIn: "Life Coach for Divorced Women Finding Their Power."

The irony tasted like bile.

Marcus's phone buzzed on the counter. He didn't answer it, but something in his posture shifted—shoulders dropping an inch, breath catching. Sarah knew that particular tightening around his eyes. She'd been seeing it for months.

"Your friend," she said, not asking.

"She's not—"

"The pool party next weekend. Should I come? Or would you prefer I make other plans?"

The spinach sat untouched between them. Outside, their neighbor's cat screamed at something in the darkness—a raw, visceral sound of hunger or fury or simply existence demanding acknowledgment.

Marcus finally looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time in what might have been years. "Sarah, I—"

"Save it." She stood up, knees popping. "I'll call the cable company tomorrow. Get the internet working again. Then you can message her properly."

She walked past him to the bedroom, her heart an empty pool where something used to swim.

Later, she'd realize this was the moment everything ended. Not dramatically. Not with shouting or shattered plates or police. Just wilted spinach growing cold while two people who'd once loved each other sat in silence, pretending not to hear what wasn't being said.

The cat screamed again outside. Somewhere, something died. Somewhere else, something began. Neither happened here.