Lightning in the Deep Water

The fox appeared at the edge of the parking lot just as Elena pressed her forehead against the cold glass of her car window. It watched her with amber eyes, unmoving, as rain lashed the pavement in sheets. She should have left the office an hour ago, but Marcus—her boss, the fucking **bull** who'd been making her life miserable since the merger—had called yet another emergency meeting about quarterly projections that meant nothing in the real world.

Her **iPhone** lit up in the cup holder. David's name. Again. Her husband had called four times since noon, each message more frantic than the last. She hadn't answered. What could she say? That she'd slept with Marcus three weeks ago in a moment of catastrophic weakness, after he'd promised her the promotion that had gone to someone else anyway? That every time David looked at her with those gentle eyes, she felt like she was **swimming** through deep water, unable to breathe, unable to surface?

**Lightning** fractured the sky, turning the rain silver for one blinding moment. The fox was gone.

Her phone buzzed again. Not David this time. Marcus: 'We need to talk about Monday.' A nausea rolled through her—hot, sharp. Monday. The day she'd finally decided to end it, to confess everything to David, to quit if necessary. But Marcus had cornered her in the breakroom instead, his hand on her wrist, his voice dropping to that register that made her skin crawl even as she stood frozen.

'I know what you're thinking,' he'd said. 'Don't be stupid, Elena.'

The bull in the china shop. The fox in the henhouse. She wasn't sure which she was anymore.

She picked up the phone and dialed David. The first ring had barely begun when he answered.

'Elena? Jesus, where are you? I've been—'

'David.' Her voice sounded strange in her own ears. 'I'm coming home. But I need to tell you something.'

The line went so quiet she could hear rain drumming the roof of her car, could hear her own heart hammering against her ribs. Then, softly: 'What?'

Outside, lightning struck again. Closer this time. She started the engine and pulled onto the highway, not knowing if she was driving toward her life or away from it, knowing only that she couldn't keep swimming in this deep water forever. She had to surface. Even if the air burned.