Love Game

Her hair was different when she walked onto the padel court — shorter, chopped with kitchen shears judging by the jagged ends. Rachel hadn't cut her hair in twelve years. Not since our wedding day.

"You're running late," she said, bouncing the ball against her racket. A rubber ball, blue and defiant.

"Work ran long." I adjusted my baseball cap, sweating through my shirt. It was ninety degrees and we were playing paddle tennis because Rachel's therapist said we needed a shared activity. Something to rebuild intimacy.

The first serve went into the net.

"Your form's off," she said.

"Everything's off."

She didn't respond. We'd been separated three months, living in the same house like ghosts haunting different rooms. The padel lessons were her idea. The court was our marriage counselor now.

"Remember baseball?" I asked suddenly. "In college, when you'd come to my games?"

"That was twenty years ago, Mark."

"You wore your hair in pigtails. You kept score even though you didn't understand the rules."

"I understood," she said. "Three strikes and you're out."

The ball sailed past me. I didn't move.

"I'm sleeping with someone," she said, hitting another serve. This time it landed perfectly in the corner.

The air left my body like I'd been punched. I stopped running toward the ball. Just stood there on the blue court, the glass walls blurring around me.

"How long?" I managed.

"Six months." She hit another serve. I didn't chase it. "He plays padel. That's how I met him."

The pieces clicked into place. The lessons. The haircut. The sudden interest in this ridiculous sport.

"You brought me here to end it," I said.

"I brought us here to be honest." She hit the ball gently into my backhand corner, an invitation I could take or leave. "I'm done running, Mark. Are you?"

I watched the ball roll to a stop between us. My hands were shaking. I reached up and took off my baseball cap, running my fingers through hair that was thinning, tired, completely different from the man she'd married.

"No," I said. "I'm done too."

She dropped her racket. The glass walls reflected two people who had loved each other once, somewhere in another lifetime.

"Good," she said softly. "Then let's finish the game."