Still Waters

The pool at the Omni was supposed to be heated, but Elena's toes went numb within seconds of dipping them in. She sat on the edge, martini sweating onto the travertine, watching David hold court at the other end. He was doing that thing with his hands—wide, sweeping gestures that made everything sound visionary, urgent. His colleagues laughed like they meant it.

She'd stopped swimming six years ago, around the time David stopped coming home before midnight. There was a period when she'd dragged herself to lap lanes at dawn, cutting through water that smelled faintly of chlorine and desperation, trying to outpace the thoughts that always caught up: He doesn't love you anymore. You're boring him. You were never interesting, just convenient.

The water lapped against the pool edges, the same rhythm as her heartbeat these days. Slow, relentless, inches from drowning.

"You okay?" A woman's voice. Elena looked up. It was one of the junior associates—what was her name? Chloe? She stood there in a black one-piece that probably cost more than Elena's wedding dress, holding a glass of white wine.

"Fine," Elena said. "Just thinking."

"David's in rare form tonight." Chloe gestured toward the cluster of men in suits. "He's been talking about the Singapore merger for twenty minutes straight. The partners are eating it up."

"David loves an audience."

"You don't seem to be watching."

Elena considered her martini. The olive had slid to the bottom, doing a slow rotation in the gin. "I've seen this show before."

Chloe sat beside her, feet dangling in the pool. Their legs didn't touch, but Elena could feel the heat radiating off her—young, ambitious, alive in ways Elena hadn't been in years. Or ever.

"He told me about you," Chloe said softly. "After the Christmas party last year. He'd had too much scotch."

Elena's stomach twisted. "I'm sure he said lots of things."

"That you met at a pool. College. He was a lifeguard and you forgot your swimsuit but got in anyway. Said you swam like you had something to prove." Chloe turned, looked her in the eye. "I swam competitively in college. I know that stroke. The determination. The needing to get somewhere, anywhere, faster than anyone else."

The water went still between them.

"He never told me that story," Elena said.

"I don't think he remembers it." Chloe's voice dropped to something almost conspiratorial. "I don't think he remembers you the way you actually are."

David laughed loudly across the pool. The sound carried, bounced off the glass walls, seemed to mock everything Elena had believed about her life for seventeen years.

She looked at Chloe—really looked at her. Saw the exhaustion around her eyes. The same exhaustion she saw in the mirror every morning.

"He's had affairs before," Elena said.

"I know. He told me I was different."

Elena finished her martini in one swallow. The gin burned all the way down. "You're not."

"I know." Chloe set her wine glass on the deck. "But I'm not staying past this quarter. The offer from London came through yesterday."

Elena thought about her swimsuit, the one she'd packed impulsively that morning because she'd seen it in the back of the drawer and thought, absurdly, Why not? Why not try swimming again? Why not try anything again?

She stood up. "I'm going to take a lap."

Chloe smiled, almost sadly. "Don't let him win."

Elena dove into the water. It was freezing. It burned. She swam like someone had just told her the truth about everything, like she had finally, after years of treading water, somewhere to go.