Serving Silence

The padel court echoed with the rhythm of a dying marriage. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Sarah returned David's serves with mechanical precision, each ball striking the glass wall like a heartbeat flatlining.

"Your phone's buzzing again," she said, watching him check his iPhone between points. The notification light cast a pale blue ghost across his face—a face she used to trace with her fingertips while he slept.

"Work emergency." He slipped it into his pocket without meeting her eyes.

They'd been here before. The court had become their new therapist, a place where they could avoid conversation while pretending to share an activity. Last week, it had been her phone. This week, his.

Sarah remembered their first apartment, the one with the crumbling kitchen and the leaky faucet. David had tried to cook spinach for her anniversary dinner, burning it so badly they'd ordered pizza and eaten it on the floor, laughing until 3 AM. Now he couldn't look at her long enough to notice she'd stopped wearing her ring.

"Game point," he called out, serving the ball with enough force to make her flinch.

She let it pass.

The ball bounced twice. Silence.

"Why didn't you—"

"I'm tired, David."

His iPhone buzzed again. He didn't check it this time.

"Who is it?" she asked, though she already knew. She'd seen the texts weeks ago—some junior analyst named Emily with perfect teeth and no history with him. No memories of burned spinach or leaky faucets or shared laughter on kitchen floors.

"Does it matter?"

"No." She walked to the net, leaning against it. "I think we both lost this match months ago."

He stood there, padel racket dangling at his side, and finally looked at her. Really looked at her. The woman who had once texted him twenty times a day now barely spoke twenty words.

"I miss the spinach," he said quietly.

"You can order it from any restaurant now."

"That's not what I mean."

The court lights flickered overhead. Somewhere, another phone buzzed. Maybe it was hers. Maybe it was his. Maybe they were both just waiting for someone else to pick up.