Games We Play

The padel court was empty, rain drumming against the glass walls as Elena pressed her back against the cold surface. Her iphone burned in her hand, the screen illuminating what she'd spent three months refusing to believe.

"You've been spying on me," she said, her voice barely rising above the thunder that rattled the facility's roof.

Marcus stood at the net, his racquet dangling from his fingers like a forgotten weapon. The lightning outside flashed, casting his face in sudden, harsh relief — the same face she'd woken up beside for seven years, now transformed into something unrecognizable.

"It's not spying, El. It's... due diligence." He stepped closer, shoes squeaking on the wet surface. "You've been distant. I needed to know."

"Needed to know what? Who I text at midnight? What I buy on Amazon?" Elena's laugh was hollow. "God, Marcus. We used to be us. Now you're tracking my location like I'm a fugitive."

The facility's security cat — a ginger tabby that prowled the courts for mice — appeared suddenly, jumping down from the equipment loft and landing with fluid grace. It wound between Elena's legs, purring as if this were just another Tuesday evening, as if her marriage weren't dissolving in the rain.

"I thought we were playing padel," she said, tears finally coming. "Not playing each other."

Marcus's face crumpled. The lightning struck again, closer this time, and for a split second Elena saw the man she'd fallen for — the one who made terrible jokes, who cried at dog food commercials, who held her when her mother died. Then the darkness returned, and she saw only the husband who'd installed spyware on her phone three months ago and never mentioned it.

"The app sends me notifications," he admitted. "When you're not where you said you'd be. When you delete messages." He paused. "I saw him at the cafe last week. The writer. You were laughing."

"He's my coworker, Marcus. We were brainstorming." Elena's voice broke. "You could have asked. You could have trusted me."

The cat meowed, impatient with their human drama, and stalked toward the exit. Elena followed it, pausing at the door.

"I'm staying at Sarah's tonight," she said. "Don't follow me. Don't track me. Just... let me go."

As she stepped into the storm, her phone buzzed once in her hand — a notification she knew she'd never read: "Device disconnected."