Everything That's Left

The HDMI cable lay coiled on the nightstand like a dead snake, its frayed end exposing copper wire that glinted in the morning light. Three weeks since she left, and Mara still reached for the empty space beside her each morning, her hand finding only the cool, unwelcoming sheet.

She sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, and reached for the bottle of vitamin D supplements on her bedside table. The doctor had prescribed them after the breakup—'you're not getting enough sun,' he'd said, as if sunlight could fix the hollow space where her heart used to be. She dry-swallowed two pills, the chalky tablets catching in her throat.

Her iPhone buzzed against the wood—a text from her sister asking if she was coming to dinner tonight. Mara stared at the screen, watching the message preview fade as her thumb hovered over the notification. She hadn't told anyone the real reason Elena left. How could she explain that she'd discovered the affair through a forgotten iPad that had auto-synced Elena's messages? How could she admit that she'd spent weeks watching their marriage unravel through iCloud backups, each notification another paper cut on an already bleeding wound?

The cable had been Elena's job. Always tangling, always needing to be replaced. 'Just buy wireless already,' Elena would sigh, but Mara had insisted on the reliability of a physical connection. Physical. Like the way Elena's arm used to drape over her shoulder while they watched movies, the weight of it anchoring her to earth.

Now she untangled the cable herself, her fingers working at the knots with a patience she didn't feel. The vitamins were supposed to help with mood regulation, according to the Internet. The iPhone offered endless distraction, infinite scrolling through other people's curated lives.

But none of it filled the silence.

Mara stood up, clutching the cable like a lifeline, and walked to the living room. She'd reconnect the TV today. She'd go to dinner. She'd swallow her vitamins and pretend to be present, pretend that something as simple as a supplement and a charged battery could make her whole again.

Some days, she almost believed it. Today wasn't one of them.