Riddles in the Dark

The thunderstorm outside matched the weather inside—Marcus and I hadn't spoken in three days, unless you count the dog's whining as communication. Barnaby, our golden retriever, sensed everything. He lay on his rug between us, a furry, uncertain diplomat.

I poured myself another glass of water, the kitchen tap running longer than necessary. Anything to delay returning to the living room, to the sphinx-like silence between us.

"You're going to the dig site tomorrow, aren't you?" Marcus's voice came from behind me. I turned, expecting anger, but found only exhaustion. His eyes, once so bright, had dimmed like embers.

"Egypt, yes. The excavation at Saqqara. They need someone to translate the newly discovered chamber texts." I set down the glass. "We discussed this."

"We discussed many things." He ran a hand through his hair. "Like how you'd take that promotion at the museum instead. How we'd try for a baby next year. How we'd finally fix the roof."

"Marcus—"

"No, it's fine." He forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You've always chased mysteries. That's why I fell for you. But Elena, you can't keep running away every time things get real. Every time you have to feel something difficult."

He was right. The sphinx had guarded its secrets for millennia, and somewhere along the way, I'd started guarding mine too. Emotions were messy, complicated—unlike the neat certainty of ancient hieroglyphs.

"My boss offered me a partnership track," he said quietly. "At the firm. The bull market's been good to us, and they see potential. But it means settling down. Committing."

"And you think I can't commit."

"I know you're scared to."

Barnaby stood and stretched, wandered over to Marcus, rested his chin on his knee. Marcus scratched him behind the ears, automatic, affectionate.

I thought about the excavation, about the untouched chamber waiting for me. But I also thought about Marcus's hands, how they felt on my skin. About Sunday mornings and lazy laughter and the way he always left the last bite of dessert for me.

Some riddles weren't meant to be solved by digging up the past.

"I can defer the dig," I said. "They'll wait another season."

Marcus looked up, hope warring with skepticism. "You'd do that?"

"I'd rather excavate what's right here." I walked over, sat beside him, wrapped my hand around his where it rested on Barnaby's fur. "If you'll still have me."

The dog sighed contentedly as Marcus pulled me close. Outside, the rain continued to fall, but the temperature in the room had finally changed.