Chlorine and Silence

The pool was empty at 2 AM, which was exactly how Elena liked it. She'd been coming to the apartment complex pool at odd hours for three months now, ever since Mark left. The water was always slightly too cold, the chlorine smell sharp enough to burn the back of her throat, but the silence was worth it.

She'd just finished her laps when she noticed him—the old man from 4B, sitting on a bench with a Tupperware container. He was eating spinach leaves with his fingers, one by one, like they were delicate things that required handling.

"My wife used to grow it," he said, without looking up. "In pots on the balcony. She died two years ago next Tuesday."

Elena hesitated, then sat on the bench opposite him. Her wet swimsuit left a dark patch on her thighs. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. She lived well." He offered her the container. "Want some? It's bitter, but it tastes like life."

She took a leaf. It was sharp and metallic on her tongue.

"You're the one who swims at night," he said. "I hear you through my balcony door. Used to keep me awake, but now I like it. Means I'm not the only one awake in the world."

They sat there until the sky began to gray, eating spinach from a plastic container, neither of them sleeping. Elena thought about Sarah, her friend who'd stopped calling six months ago, too busy with her new marriage and her promotion and her carefully curated life. She thought about Mark, who'd wanted someone softer, someone who didn't need the pool at 2 AM to keep from screaming.

"My friend tells me I should move," the old man said suddenly. "Get a place with a view. But the view from 4B is the same as anywhere when you're alone."

Elena nodded. She'd been thinking the same thing about her own apartment, about leaving the city, about starting over somewhere new. But the pool was here, and the old man with his spinach was here, and maybe that was enough.

"I'm Elena," she said.

"Arthur," he replied, and for the first time, he smiled.

The sun broke over the horizon as they stood up, two people who'd found something like friendship in the chlorine-scented dark, eating bitter leaves and watching the light come back.