Chlorine and Goodbye

The pool was empty at 5 AM, just how I liked it. I'd been swimming laps for forty-five minutes when I saw him sitting on the bench, the way he used to wait for me after practice in college. Ten years had passed, but some things hadn't changed.

"Your form's gone to shit," Marcus said, without looking up from his phone.

I pulled myself out of the water, dripping and breathless. "What are you doing here?"

"Your mom called me. Said you weren't answering your phone." He finally looked at me, and there it was—that concerned expression that had made me trust him with everything, once. "She's worried about you. Said you got some test results back."

"And you rushed over because you're such a good friend."

"I am your friend."

"You slept with my wife, Marcus."

The silence stretched between us, longer than any distance I'd swum that morning. The air smelled of chlorine and uncomfortable truths.

"That was two years ago," he said quietly. "She's gone now. Can't you let it go?"

"That's the thing about betrayal," I said, grabbing my towel. "It doesn't expire."

He handed me a plastic container. "Your mom said you're not eating right. Made you something."

I opened it. Spinach salad, with walnuts and balsamic. My favorite. The irony burned more than the chlorine in my eyes.

"And these." He pushed a bottle across the bench. "Vitamin D. Your mom said you're deficient."

I stared at the pills. "You think vitamins fix this?"

"No," he said, standing up. "But your mom does. And she asked me to check on you, so I'm here. Whatever happened between us, whatever happened with Elena—that's separate. You're going through something, and you shouldn't be alone."

"The test results came back benign," I said, even though I hadn't planned to tell him. "It's nothing."

He closed his eyes, relief washing over his face. "Thank god."

"But for three days," I continued, "I thought I was dying. And you know what scared me? Not that I'd never swim again. Not that I'd never see my family. It was that the last person I'd really talked to—really talked to—was you. After everything."

Marcus sat back down. The early morning light caught the water's surface, casting dancing shadows across us.

"I don't know how to fix this," he said.

"Me neither," I said, sitting beside him. "But I'm tired of swimming alone."