Second Serve

The **dog** barked at 4 AM, just like he had every morning since Elena left. Marcus rolled over, staring at the ceiling fan's lazy rotation. Baxter's toenails clicked on the hardwood, a metronome counting down the hours until Marcus had to face his life again.

He swung his legs out of bed and dry-swallowed a **vitamin** D supplement. The doctor had recommended it, saying his levels were dangerously low. 'You're not absorbing enough sunlight, Marcus,' she'd said. He'd thought about telling her that he hadn't absorbed anything since the divorce, but even in therapy he lied about the depth of the hollow space in his chest.

At the **padel** club, his partner was already waiting. Sarah, twenty-eight and relentlessly optimistic, had signed them up for the tournament. Marcus, forty-three and exhausted, just wanted to survive the match without embarrassing himself.

'Your **hair** is getting long,' she said, bouncing on her toes. The overhead lights caught the copper strands escaping her ponytail. Marcus ran a hand through his own graying temples, suddenly aware that he'd stopped caring about appearances months ago.

'You ready?' she asked, spinning her racket.

Their opponents were a married couple in their fifties, devastatingly efficient. They'd been playing together for decades, moving in synchronized patterns that made Marcus ache with something he couldn't name. Every time he and Sarah tried to coordinate, they collided, missing easy shots, their signals crossed.

Afterward, Sarah suggested drinks. Marcus declined, citing Baxter. She laughed. 'You and that **dog**. You know he's the only thing you ever talk about?'

He walked home alone, passing a park where a father taught his son to hit a **baseball**. The metallic sound of the bat connecting with the ball echoed in the twilight—sharp, perfect, impossible. Marcus paused, watching until the sun disappeared behind the skyline, wondering why simple things always looked easiest from a distance.

Baxter greeted him at the door, tail wagging, and Marcus realized he was the only one who hadn't left.