The Art of Holding On

The goldfish had been swimming in circles for three years, and Maya understood the feeling. She stood before the tank in her sterile apartment, watching the orange scales flash like tiny warning lights, thinking about how she'd ended up here—thirty-seven, successful, and utterly hollow.

"You're coming to the game, right?" Richard's voice through the phone was warm, expectant. He'd finally divorced his wife, finally moved into his own place. Finally, finally.

"Baseball season again," she said, dodging. "You know how I feel about spectator sports."

"Just one game. Come on."

She'd met Richard at a corporate conference in Miami three years ago—the same week she'd impulsively bought the goldfish from a street vendor who'd promised her it would bring luck. She'd named him Felix, after the fortune, but mostly he'd just brought algae.

Now she stood on her balcony, palm trees swaying in the humid Florida dusk, and thought about the baseball game she didn't want to attend. She thought about Richard's hands—how they'd felt against her palm that first night, warm and solid. How they'd feel now, if she let them.

Felix swam to the surface of his tank, mouth opening and closing in silent appeal.

"What?" Maya asked him. "What do you want?"

The question echoed. What did she want?

She thought about Richard leaving his wife. About the way he looked at her sometimes, like she was already his. About the baseball tickets that arrived every month, regular as a heartbeat, even though she never said yes.

She picked up her phone and dialed.

"I'll come," she said when he answered. "But I'm not promising I'll stay the whole time."

Richard's laugh was surprised, delighted. "I'll take what I can get."

Maya hung up and returned to the fish tank. Felix spun in another circle, his orange body catching the last of the evening light.

"Well," she told him. "At least one of us is going somewhere."

She grabbed her keys. Maybe luck wasn't about getting what you wanted. Maybe luck was about finally admitting what you wanted in the first place.