Ebb and Flow

The pool water shimmered in the late afternoon heat, that particular turquoise that only exists in postcards and hotel advertisements. Sarah sat at the edge, her legs submerged, watching the ripples distort her calves. Behind her, through the sliding glass doors, she could see Marcus on the bed, remote in hand, flicking between cable news channels like he was hunting for something that would make him feel something.

He'd been like this since the layoff—three months of alternating between manic job applications and this eerie stillness. The papaya on the nightstand had turned from firm to worrying soft, its skin yellowing like an old bruise. Neither of them had touched it.

"Baseball's on," he called out, not turning from the TV. "Bottom of the ninth."

She didn't answer. The water felt like a second skin, temperature perfectly maintained, artificial as everything else about their life here. This was supposed to be a celebratory trip—his promotion, then his promotion that wasn't, then the severance package that felt more like an insult than liberation.

She remembered how he used to take her to games in their early twenties, cheap seats in the blistering sun, sharing overpriced beers and dreams about the life they'd build. They were building it, or so she'd thought. Now the building had stalled, the foundation cracked, and she was watching the water instead of him.

Marcus appeared in the doorway, silhouetted against the room's dim light. "You coming in?"

The double meaning hung between them. Are you coming in—to the room, to this life, to whatever comes next.

"The water's nice," she said, which wasn't an answer at all.

He nodded, understanding what she couldn't say. Sometimes love wasn't enough to bridge the distance between who you were and who you've become. Sometimes you just watched the ripples and hoped the motion would eventually settle into something recognizable.

The papaya would need to be thrown away tomorrow. That was the kind of decision you could make. The rest—you just had to wait and see if the current pulled you under or carried you somewhere new.