Saltwater and Orange Slices

The padel court echoed with the rhythmic thwack of balls against glass, but Mara couldn't focus. Her serve sailed wide, hitting the fence with a pathetic clatter.

"You're running on empty," Sofia called from across the court, wiping sweat from her brow with the hem of her shirt. "Same as last week."

Mara didn't answer. She walked to the bench where her water bottle sat, condensation dripping like tears down the plastic. She'd been coming here every Tuesday and Thursday for three months, ever since Daniel moved out. The routine was supposed to help. Exercise, fresh air, social connection — all the things the magazine articles said would mend a broken heart.

Instead, she just felt tired.

"Hey." Sofia's voice softened as she approached. "You want to talk about it?"

Mara unscrewed the cap and drank deeply, the water cool against her throat. "There's nothing to talk about. He's getting married next month."

"Oh." Sofia's expression shifted in the dim light of the court. "That's... yeah."

An older gentleman on the adjacent court offered them a slice of orange from his cooler. "For energy, chicas. You play like you're carrying something heavy."

Mara accepted it, the citrus scent sharp and bright against the musty air of the court. She bit into it, juice running down her chin, and suddenly she was crying — not the delicate weeping of romantic movies, but the ugly, snorting kind that came when you'd held it in too long.

Sofia's arms were around her, and somewhere in the distance, someone kept playing, the ball hitting the glass over and over, a steady heartbeat against the night.

"I'm sorry," Mara choked out. "I don't know why—"

"You do, though." Sofia pulled back, hands on Mara's shoulders. "And that's okay. But maybe stop running from it. The grief, I mean. It's catching up to you either way."

The orange slice lay forgotten on the bench, its edges already browning. Beyond the court's glass walls, the city lights blurred through unshed tears. Mara thought about water — how it could sustain or destroy, how it could wear down stone over time, how it always found its level.

"One more game?" Sofia asked quietly.

Mara nodded, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "Yeah. But I'm not promising I'll win."

"Good." Sofia smiled. "I was getting tired of losing anyway."