Riddles at the Deep End

The hotel pool was empty at 3 AM, which was exactly why Elena had chosen it. She needed to think, and the water had always helped her think — something about the stillness, the way it held light even in darkness. She sat on the edge, feet dangling in, when she heard footsteps.

"Couldn't sleep either?" Mark's voice.

Elena didn't turn. She and Mark had been something once — friends, then more, then something undefined and complicated. Now they were coworkers at the same conference, sharing hallways and awkward silences.

"Just thinking," she said.

He sat beside her, close enough that she could smell the whiskey on his breath. "About us?"

The question hung there like smoke. Elena watched the water ripple around her ankles. "There is no us, Mark. That's the problem."

"There could be." His hand moved toward hers, then stopped. "If you'd stop treating me like a sphinx. Like everything I say is a riddle you need to solve."

"Maybe because you always are."

The pool lights flickered, casting underwater shadows that moved like something alive. Elena remembered diving into Mark's arms three years ago, the way she'd thought she could live in that feeling forever. She remembered the silence that followed, the unanswered texts, the way he'd moved to Seattle without saying goodbye properly.

"You know," Mark said quietly, "I thought about you every day in Seattle. Every single day."

"But you didn't call."

"I didn't know what to say. What do you say to someone who saw you at your worst and stayed anyway?"

Elena pulled her feet from the water. It suddenly felt too deep, too much. "You say thank you. You say I'm sorry. You don't say nothing."

"I'm saying it now."

She turned to look at him really — the lines around his eyes, the gray in his hair, the way his shoulders slumped forward like he was carrying something heavy. He looked older. She probably did too.

"It's too late, Mark. Some things, once they sink, they don't come back up."

"I could try."

"You could. But I'm not sure I want to watch you drown trying."

She stood up, water dripping from her legs onto the concrete. The sound was loud in the quiet. Mark didn't move, just watched her with eyes that had always been too knowing, too patient, like he understood something she hadn't figured out yet.

"Goodnight, Mark."

"Goodnight, Elena."

She walked away without looking back. Behind her, the water settled again, still and dark, holding all the things they hadn't said.