Hydration

Sarah showed up at Maya's door with a case of artisanal alkaline water and a bottle of vitamins that cost more than Maya's monthly utilities. They hadn't spoken since the funeral — since Maya had said something she couldn't take back about how Sarah's husband had never really loved her anyway. Six months of silence, and here Sarah was, bearing minerals like peace offerings.

'Your sister called me,' Sarah said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. 'Said you haven't been eating. Said you're down to—well. Said she's worried.'

Maya gestured to the couch, where a stack of unpaid medical bills had become her primary furnishing. 'I'm fine.'

Sarah set the water on the coffee table with deliberate care, like she was handling something sacred. 'No, you're not. You're dying, Maya. Slowly. And you think it's poetic, but it's just sad.'

The word hung there — *friend* — unspoken between them, heavy with everything it used to mean and everything it had become. Maya wanted to scream that Sarah didn't get to swoop in with her expensive water and her judgment and her perfect life, her husband who was still alive, her capacity to believe that things could be fixed with supplements and self-care.

'You think a vitamin is going to fix this?' Maya asked instead, her voice coming out smaller than she intended.

Sarah's face crumbled. 'I don't know. I don't know what fixes this. I don't know what fixes us. But I brought water because you need to drink something, and I brought vitamins because your sister said you stopped taking care of yourself, and I'm here because I'm tired of pretending you didn't mean what you said, but I'm also tired of pretending you weren't right.'

The air conditioning hummed. Somewhere outside, a car alarm faded into the distance.

'He didn't,' Maya whispered. 'Love her. Not really.'

'I know.' Sarah sat on the edge of the couch, careful not to disturb the bills. 'I know he didn't. And I know I married him anyway.' She opened the water bottle, the plastic crackling like thunder in the quiet room. 'Drink.'

Maya did. It tasted like water.