Market Hours

Elena watched the candlestick chart on her third monitor, the red candle dropping like a stone. The bear market had eaten through her portfolio for six months, each dip another small death. Her hair—once a chestnut cascade she'd actually cared about—now hung in a neglected ponytail, strands surrendering to gravity and exhaustion.

"You're obsessing," Marcus said from the doorway, not looking up from his phone. He was always on his phone now, swiping through dating apps he thought she didn't know about. His cat, Luna, wound between his legs, purring like a small engine of betrayal.

"I'm working, Marcus. Something you wouldn't understand."

He laughed, bitter and sharp. "Oh, I understand. You're chasing that bull run like it's going to fix everything. Like it's going to fix us."

The truth of it landed like a punch. She had been waiting for the market to turn, believing that if she just made enough money, their fraying marriage would somehow repair itself. But money couldn't fix what had broken between them—the slow erosion of intimacy, the way they'd become strangers sharing a bed.

Marcus walked to the fish tank on the far wall. The goldfish inside—a rescue from her niece's dorm room—swam in endless circles, its three-second memory a mercy. "Even this fish has more purpose than we do right now."

"That's not fair."

"Isn't it?" He turned, his eyes searching hers. "What are we waiting for, El? The market? The perfect moment? Because I don't think it's coming."

The cat jumped onto her desk, knocking a stack of financial reports onto the floor. Neither of them moved to pick them up.

"I saw your messages," she said quietly.

Marcus's shoulders slumped. "I didn't want you to find out like that."

"How did you want me to find out?"

"I didn't." He ran a hand through his hair—thinning now, like their savings, like their patience. "I wanted to have the courage to tell you I met someone else. But I didn't want to hurt you."

"And yet here we are."

"Here we are."

Outside, the trading day was ending. The bull and bear had fought to a stalemate, as they always did eventually. The market would open again tomorrow, but some things—some once-in-a-lifetime opportunities—had a way of never coming back around.

"I'll pack tonight," she said.

He nodded once and left, the cat following him out like it had already chosen its side.

Elena watched her screen flicker, the red candles still falling. Somewhere out there, someone was making a fortune. She turned off the monitor and sat in the gathering dark, finally ready to accept her losses.