Love Games

Emma sliced the papaya with surgical precision, the juice running down her wrist like something wounded. Marcus was late again. The third time this week. He'd been staying late at the office—something about the new fiber optic cable project that was supposed to revolutionize the company's infrastructure. Or so he said.

She remembered when they'd met, three years ago at that charity padel tournament. She'd been impressed by his backhand, his laugh. He'd told her he used to play baseball in college, until a shoulder injury ended that dream. There was something vulnerable about him, something she'd wanted to protect.

Now, papaya forgotten on the counter, she scrolled through her phone. The notification from his fitness app stared back: Padel match with Sarah, 7 PM. Every Tuesday and Thursday for three weeks. The same Sarah from his department who'd been at their anniversary dinner last month, touching Marcus's arm a little too often when she laughed.

Emma had met Sarah at the company holiday party. A corporate attorney, sharp as a bullwhip, with an easy confidence that made Emma feel like she was constantly apologizing for taking up space. Sarah had mentioned she was single, recently divorced. Looking for someone who didn't play games.

"Unless they're the fun kind," she'd added, winking.

The key turned in the lock. Marcus breezed in, smelling of expensive cologne and someone else's shampoo.

"Rough day," he said, already moving toward the bedroom. "Cable project's a nightmare."

"Padel with Sarah?" The question came out harder than she intended.

He froze. "What?"

"Your fitness app. Padel with Sarah, twice a week. For three weeks."

The silence stretched, thin and terrible. Then he sighed, the sound of someone who'd been carrying something heavy for too long.

"Emma—"

"Don't." She grabbed her keys. "I'm going to stay with Jenna. We can talk when you figure out what you want."

The papaya sat on the counter, oxidizing in the evening light, turning brown at the edges like something that had been left out too long. Some things, once cut, didn't heal. They just rotted.