Surface Tension

The vitamin regimen was supposed to fix everything. That's what the packaging promised, what the wellness influencer with the perfect smile had sworn. Vitamin D for mood, B-complex for energy, magnesium for sleep. Each morning, I line them up on the counter like tiny pharmaceutical soldiers marching toward a war I can't name.

From the clubhouse terrace, I watch Richard dominate the padel court. He moves with a fluidity I haven't seen in our bedroom in years. His opponent is Elena, the new senior associate, thirty-two and bright in a way that makes everything else seem dim. Every time Richard scores, their laughter spills across the court—easy, genuine, unburdened.

The club membership was his idea. "Something we can do together," he'd said. "Good for us." We haven't played together since the second week. Now I sit by the pool while he finds other partners, other reasons to stay late at the office.

Below, the water shimmers like liquid glass. A woman swims slow laps, her movements hypnotic. I think about stepping in fully dressed, letting the chlorine seep into my work clothes, washing away the vitamins and the dinner reservations and the pretense that we're both still trying.

Richard catches my eye from the court and raises his racket in salute. I force a smile, lift my hand in response. Elena's hand lingers on his shoulder as she whispers something that makes him laugh again—that same laugh he used to save for me in the apartment we rented before we could afford this life.

The vitamins sit heavy in my stomach. I'd started taking them the same month Richard stopped coming home for dinner. Some part of me believed if I could optimize my body, optimize my routine, optimize everything, the rest would follow. That's the lie they sell you—that health is a meritocracy, that if you maintain the right inputs, you're guaranteed the right outputs.

I stand up and walk to the pool's edge. My reflection stares back—composed, well-rested, fortified. I'm healthier than I've ever been. I'm also lonelier than I've ever been, and the two facts aren't contradictory at all. That's the part nobody mentions on the wellness blogs.

Richard and Elena are playing another match. The club restaurant is taking reservations for tonight. I have another bottle of vitamins waiting at home. I dip my fingers into the water and watch the ripples spread, thinking about how long I can stay on the surface before something has to break.