Riddles by the Illuminated Pool

The corporate retreat was Marcus's idea—of course it was. He'd rented someone's villa in the hills, complete with an infinity pool that seemed to spill into the darkness below. I'd come for the free drinks and the desperate hope that distance might make everything simpler.

I found him at the edge of the pool at 2 AM, cigarette cherry glowing like a dying star. Marcus. My oldest friend. The man who'd taken the promotion I'd been promised, then emailed me a list of reasons why I 'wasn't ready.'

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, not turning around.

"Don't smoke anymore," I said.

He laughed, exhaling a plume of smoke. "Right. And I don't lie to my friends."

Between us, on a stone pedestal, crouched a sphinx statue—some kitsch the villa owner must have loved. Its stone face caught the moonlight, enigmatic and fucking smug. The riddle wasn't what walks on four legs then two then four. The riddle was how you kept loving someone who'd already shown you exactly who they were.

"The sphinx asks a question before devouring you," Marcus said, apropos of nothing. "What's the one thing you want to ask me?"

I looked at the pool, its surface still and dark. Reflected stars rippled as something disturbed the water. A lizard, maybe. Or my own trembling hands.

"Why did you think I wouldn't find out?" I asked finally.

Marcus stubbed out his cigarette. The embers hissed and died. "I knew you'd find out. I just thought you'd understand."

"Understand what?"

"That it was never about you." His voice cracked. "It was about me being terrified of standing still."

The sphinx watched us both, stone eyes unblinking. Some riddles don't have answers. Some friendships end not with betrayal but with the quiet recognition that you've become different people, and the person who knew all your secrets is now someone you barely recognize.

"I'm going back inside," I said.

"Stay," he said. "Please."

I didn't. I walked past the sphinx, past the pool's blue glow, back toward a house full of people who would never understand why I couldn't forgive him for something he couldn't help being.

The water rippled again. I didn't look back.