Stuck

The spinach from Elena's dinner sat stubbornly between Miranda's front teeth, a green flag of surrender she couldn't quite extract with her tongue. Around her, the dinner party continued—laughter, wine, the clinking of expensive porcelain. No one mentioned it. Of course they didn't. That would require acknowledging something slightly wrong, and the Cardwells' dinner parties were famous for their seamless perfection.

Marcus stood by the pool, holding court. The blue water reflected the party lights, distorting them into wavering stars. He was telling the story about his startup again—the pivot, the near-bankruptcy, the miraculous Series A. Miranda had heard it a dozen times. She knew every pause, every hand gesture, every self-deprecating joke that wasn't really self-deprecating at all. It was his bull, and he sold it beautifully. She'd bought it for seven years.

"You okay?" Elena appeared beside her, offering fresh wine. "You've been quiet."

"Just admiring the view," Miranda said, covering her smile with her wine glass. The spinach remained.

Marcus caught her eye across the pool and winked. That familiar wink—charming, confident, utterly hollow. She thought about the credit card statements she'd found last month. The "business trips" that coincided with nights he didn't come home. The way he'd stopped asking about her painting, her friends, her dreams. The bull had piled up so gradually she hadn't noticed she was drowning in it.

"Marcus is quite the storyteller," Elena said. "You two seem perfect."

Perfect. Like a pool with no bottom—beautiful until you tried to stand.

Miranda set down her wine. She walked to the edge of the pool where Marcus stood, his audience enraptured. The water lapped gently against the tiles, a rhythmic invitation. Behind her, the spinach still clung, stubborn and ridiculous and real.

"Marcus," she said, and her voice carried. The chatter quieted. "There's something in my teeth. Can you help me get it?"

He froze. The bull evaporated. For the first time in seven years, he looked at her and didn't know what to say.

"It's been there all night," she continued, her voice steady. "Like a lot of things."

The pool lights flickered. Someone gasped. Miranda smiled, spinach and all, and finally felt seen.