Electric Waters

The vitamin regimen started after the diagnosis, or maybe it was the divorce. Elena couldn't remember which came first—the daily handful of supplements or the empty space in the bed where Marcus used to sleep. She stood at the kitchen counter at 2 AM, counting out pills: D for bone health, B12 for energy, magnesium for the anxiety that had moved in like an unwanted roommate.

Three years later, she was at the Marriott in Scottsdale, selling wellness software to HR directors who nodded politely while checking their phones. The conference had been brutal—endless presentations about "optimizing human potential" and "holistic employee ecosystems." Elena had stopped at the bar on the way to her room, bought an overpriced chardonnay she didn't want.

She found herself at the hotel pool, drawn by the unlikely coincidence of an Arizona lightning storm. The air tasted like ozone and impending rain. The pool was empty—everyone else had sensiously retreated indoors when the sky turned the color of a fresh bruise.

Elena kicked off her heels and stepped to the edge. The water churned with wind, each ripple catching fractured reflections of the storm. Lightning cracked overhead, illuminating the pool in stark flashes. For a moment, she saw her own face superimposed over the water—a younger version, before the pills, before the carefully curated wellness pitch she'd become.

"You're going to miss it," a voice said behind her.

She turned. It was one of the attendees—David, from the breakout session. He held two plastic cups of hotel coffee. "The meteor shower," he said. "It's supposed to peak at 3 AM. If the clouds break."

"I'm just admiring the view," Elena said, gesturing vaguely at the storm.

"The lightning's better anyway." He joined her at the edge. "My ex-wife swore by those vitamins you mentioned. The ones in your presentation. Said they'd fix everything that was wrong with her. With us."

Elena laughed, surprised by how natural it sounded. "And did they?"

"She left anyway. Took the vitamins with her."

Another flash of lightning. In its brief illumination, she saw that he was handsome in the way of people who'd stopped trying to impress anyone years ago. She thought about the bottle of supplements in her room, expiring next month. She thought about Marcus's last voicemail, still saved on her phone.

"You know," she said, "I don't think any of it works. The vitamins, the optimization software. None of it fixes the stuff that actually matters."

"No," David agreed. "But sometimes you need to be in the right place when the lightning strikes."

He didn't touch her, and she didn't move away. They stood together as the storm broke, rain finally spilling down in sheets, and for the first time in three years, Elena didn't think about what was missing. She thought about what might arrive with the morning. The pool rippled beneath them, alive with electric possibility.