Poolside Games

The hotel pool shimmered like liquid turquoise at sunset, but Marcus couldn't appreciate it. His iPhone lay face-down on the table, a dormant threat containing three unread messages from Sarah. She'd know he'd seen them. She always knew.

"You're zoning out again," Elena said, sliding into the chair across from him. "Still thinking about the match?" Her engagement ring caught the light — new, diamond-heavy, conspicuously present.

"The padel tournament," Marcus said, forcing a smile. "Your backhand was ruthless."

"Oh please." She laughed, but her eyes darted toward the hotel entrance. "You let me win."

"I didn't."

"Marcus." Her voice dropped, intimate suddenly. "I saw you miss that easy volley on purpose. You were looking at me."

The fox. That's what they'd called her in the office, behind her back and sometimes to her face — cunning, beautiful, impossible to pin down. Marcus had hated the nickname until last month, when he'd become another one of her calculated victories.

"We agreed," he said, voice tight. "The retreat ends tomorrow. Then we never..."

"I know what we agreed." She reached across the table, her fingers brushing his. "But you can't tell me you didn't feel something. During the match. The way we moved together."

A memory surfaced: Sarah, three weeks ago, telling him she'd been accepted to the graduate program in London. The way she'd cried when he hadn't reacted. The accusation she'd hurled at him before leaving for her sister's place: *You're emotionally vacant, Marcus. I don't think you're capable of really loving anyone.*

He'd proven her right within forty-eight hours.

"Elena..." He pulled his hand back. "I have to go. I need to..."

"Bear it?" She finished, something like pity in her smile. "The weight of being exactly who you are?"

She stood up, adjusting her dress. "Your phone buzzed twice while we were talking. You should check that."

Marcus watched her walk away toward the hotel, the fox glancing back once — satisfied, perhaps, or just confirming he'd remain frozen in place. He turned his phone over.

Sarah: *I'm coming home early. We should talk.*

Sarah: *Actually, don't wait up. I think I know what I need to know now.*

The pool reflected the first stars, serene and indifferent. Marcus sat very still, finally understanding that some games end even if you refuse to keep playing.