Custody Match Point

The padel court hummed with the sound of rubber meeting ball, but Marcus couldn't focus. Across the net, Elena moved with that same predatory grace she'd used during their divorce negotiations—every step calculated, every swing deliberate.

"Your serve," she called out, wiping her palms on her skirt. He noticed she still wore the silver ring he'd given her eight years ago, moved to her right hand.

"About Mittens," he started, missing the serve entirely. The ball bounced lazily against the back glass wall.

"The cat stays with me, Marcus. We've discussed this."

"She was my anniversary gift."

"She sleeps on my side of the bed now."

They'd been here an hour, running each other ragged in this brutal Miami heat. The palm trees lining the court cast long, dramatic shadows as the sun began its descent. This was their thing—meeting monthly for a game, pretending it was about fitness when really it was about the custody they still fought over: not just the cat, but the memories, the friends, the life they'd built.

Marcus served again. This time, Elena returned it viciously. They fell into their old rhythm, that wordless communication that had made them terrifying doubles partners back when they were married. Back when they'd still talk in bed instead of staring at separate phones.

"I saw you brought someone to Chloe's wedding," she said between points.

"Did it bother you?"

"No." She hesitated. "Maybe."

"She's nothing like you."

"I know. That's the problem."

The game ended 6-4, her victory. They collapsed onto the bench, both soaked in sweat, breathing hard. A stray cat—not Mittens, but some gray tabby—skirted the perimeter of the court, watching them with yellow eyes.

"You can see Mittens on Tuesdays," Elena said quietly. "But she needs to sleep at my place. She's old, Marcus. She needs consistency."

He nodded, realizing he'd lost more than the match. "I'll bring her food Tuesday. The expensive stuff."

"She'd like that."

They sat in silence as the palm fronds rustled above them, both pretending not to cry, both knowing this monthly ritual was the only thing keeping them from becoming strangers completely.