Sphinx at Sunset

The sphinx tattoo on her forearm seemed to smirk at me as Emma swirled her wine, the merlot catching the orange glow of sunset through her apartment window. We'd been circling each other for months—two senior associates at the firm, both too aware of the clock ticking on our partnership track.

"You know what Jenkins called me today?" she asked, not really asking. "His little bull in the china shop. Like being aggressive is some character flaw he discovered."

I took a sip of my drink. "He's threatened by your numbers. Q3 projections don't lie."

Emma's laugh was bitter, sharp as glass. She walked to her fish tank, where a single goldfish drifted in the filtered blue light, mouth opening and closing in silent commentary. "My daughter won him at the fair. She's with her dad this weekend. Sometimes I think this fish has more agency than I do."

The riddle hung between us, sphinx-like: when does ambition become self-destruction? We were both thirty-five, staring down the barrel of making partner or washing out, and somehow we'd ended up here—friends who crossed lines we shouldn't, lonely in a city full of people.

"I'm leaving," she said suddenly, turning from the tank. The orange light painted her in amber and shadow. "Not the firm. The city. Mark got a promotion in Chicago. He wants us to try again."

The words hit like a physical blow. We'd never said what we were, but we were something.

"Is that what you want?" The question felt inadequate, small.

Emma traced the sphinx on her arm, its Egyptian eyes ancient and knowing. "The sphinx asks: what walks on four legs in the morning, two at noon, three in the evening? We're at noon, David. And I'm tired of walking alone."

Outside, the sun dipped below the skyline. The goldfish surfaced, breaking water with a silver flash. Some endings are just beginnings that haven't revealed themselves yet.

"Go," I said, and meant it. "But call me from Chicago."

She smiled, and for a moment, the riddle didn't need solving. "Every morning," she promised.

The goldfish swam on, indifferent to the leaving, the staying, the way life simply continues, riddle or no riddle.