Signal in the Static
The cable bill sat on the kitchen counter like a judgment. Three months overdue. Elena stared at it while her coffee went cold, the red lettering mocking the careful spreadsheet she'd made—the one that was supposed to save them.
She thought about last night, finding David at the window at 2 AM, not asleep but standing there in the dark. When she asked what was wrong, he'd said nothing, just kept looking out at the streetlight making halos on the pavement. She knew he was thinking about his father. The old man had died three months ago, leaving behind a house full of baseball memorabilia and a silence David couldn't seem to fill.
Elena had taken up running again—mornings mostly, before the heat settled in—because the rhythm of her feet hitting pavement was the only thing that quieted the constant what-ifs in her head. What if she'd taken that promotion? What if they'd bought the smaller house? What if she'd told him how lonely she'd been even before his father got sick?
The swimming pool at the community center had been David's sanctuary as a teenager. He'd told her once, the first summer they met, about how underwater, everything slowed down. How the world with all its expectations and disappointments became muffled and distant, reduced to bubbles and light. She hadn't understood then—she'd never needed escape the way he did. Now she caught him sometimes in the shower, standing there far longer than necessary, as if trying to recapture that feeling of being submerged.
The cable company was sending someone between 8 and 5. Another day shot to hell, waiting in a house that felt too big, too full of things they couldn't talk about. But the truth was, even if they paid the bill, even if they got their channels back, they'd still be sitting on opposite ends of the couch, both pretending not to notice the space between them had become its own kind of swimming—something you had to navigate constantly just to stay above the surface.
Elena picked up the bill. She'd pay it. Because that's what you did when you loved someone. You paid the cable bill even when you weren't sure if love alone was enough to keep the signal from fading completely.
But first, she'd go for a run.