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The pool at the Days Inn on Highway 9 had seen better decades. Its surface, usually the color of neglected teeth, now churned with raindrops as the storm moved in. Elena sat on a plastic lounge chair, her fourth motel-provided whiskey sour sweating onto the pavement beside her. She'd told Marcus she needed space. What she'd needed was three states of distance and a vending machine Pinot Grigio.

"You're going to get struck by lightning out here," Marcus said from under the awning. Barnaby, their elderly golden retriever, pressed against his leg, sensing the atmospheric pressure drop that always preceded these conversations. "The dog's terrified. Come inside."

"Let him be terrified," Elena said, not turning around. "It's good practice."

A jagged fork of lightning split the sky, illuminating the pool's murky depths—something floating near the drain. A child's inflatable? No, she realized with a start. It was the inflatable unicorn she'd bought on their honeymoon, six years and a lifetime ago. How had it ended up here? They hadn't stayed at this motel since. Unless...

"You came here before," she said, the realization hitting with the next thunderclap. "Without me."

Marcus's silence stretched between them, longer and more telling than any confession. Behind him, in their room's dark window, she could see the television's blue flicker. Static.

"She didn't mean anything," he said finally. "It was last summer. When you were at your mother's."

Elena stood up, her chair scraping against concrete. The rain plastered her silk blouse to her skin. She felt electric, suddenly, alive with a terrible clarity. The distance she'd needed wasn't geographical. It was this—this moment, this truth, this final understanding that some currents, once released, can't be called back.

"Barnaby's not the one who's terrified," she said, walking toward him through the rain. "Come here, boy." The dog obeyed instantly, pressing his wet body against her legs. "Good dog," she whispered. "You never lied to me."

Behind her, in the pool, the unicorn bobbed on wind-whipped waves, its painted smile fixed and eternal, watching everything fall apart.