Electric Water at Midnight

The hotel pool was empty at 2 AM, which was exactly why Elena had chosen it. She'd left the corporate retreat two hours ago—somewhere between the team-building exercises and Marcus's promotion announcement, her capacity for performative enthusiasm had evaporated.

She floated on her back, staring at the glass ceiling where distant lightning fractures spiderwebbed across the sky. The storm was still miles away, but the air tasted of ozone and impending rain.

"You're missing the karaoke contest," a voice said from the pool's edge.

Elena jerked, went under, surfaced sputtering. There was David, looking unfairly composed in his suit, his fedora pulled low despite the indoor lighting. He held her glass of wine, which she'd abandoned on a patio table hours ago.

"Your hat," she said, treading water. "You still have that ridiculous hat."

"It's a fedora, and yes." He set down the wine, sat on the edge, rolled up his pant legs. "You're avoiding congratulations."

"I'm happy for him. Marcus deserves it."

"But not as happy as you would have been three years ago."

The lightning came closer now—actual flashes, illuminating the dark water between them. Elena swam to the edge, rested her arms on the cool tile. She'd loved Marcus once. She'd loved David too, in that messy overlapping way of twenty-somethings who haven't learned that emotional boundaries serve a purpose.

"I swam with him in this pool," David said quietly. "Last year's retreat. He told me he'd made a mistake."

Elena's chest tightened. "A mistake."

"Letting you go."

"He didn't let me go. I left."

"Same difference." David took off the hat, set it beside him. His hair was flat underneath. "I'm not Marcus. But I've been wearing this hat since you said you liked it."

The storm broke. Rain drummed against the glass roof, and for a moment, the world was just water sounds and the charged silence between them.

"Get in," Elena said.

David hesitated. "I don't have—"

"Get in."

He slid into the water, suit and all, and when he surfaced beside her, she didn't move away. The lightning flashed again, brilliant and revealing, and somewhere in the distance, the karaoke machine carried a tinny version of "I Will Survive."

"Marcus," David said.

"What about him?" Elena asked, watching the rain streak the glass above.

"Marcus is upstairs. I'm here."

She took David's hand beneath the water. His fingers were warm, her skin was cold, and between them, the pool held both temperatures at once.