The Cable Between Us

The padel ball hit the wall with a hollow thud, echoing the hollow feeling in Elena's chest. She watched Marco lunge for it, his iPhone lighting up in his back pocket for the third time in as many minutes. He ignored it. He ignored everything these days.

"Cable's coming next week," he said between serves, breathless. "New fiber line. Finally."

Elena nodded, swinging her racket. The word hung between them—cable. Connection. The very thing they'd lost. Their marriage had become a series of dropped signals, buffering conversations that never quite loaded.

"I saw the messages," she said.

Marco stopped mid-swing. The ball rolled away, forgotten.

"On your iPhone. Last night. When you thought I was asleep."

The silence stretched between them, heavier than any cable she'd ever held.

"She's just a friend," he started, then stopped. Elena's cat, Bast, wound around her ankles, purring—so easy with love, so uncomplicated. Bast didn't know about betrayal. Bast just knew warmth, food, the safety of being chosen.

"What's her name?" Elena asked, though she already knew.

Marco didn't answer. His phone lit up again. He didn't look.

"That night you worked late," Elena said, voice steady, "Bast waited by the door for four hours. You said you were at the office."

The padel court felt suddenly enormous, walls closing in.

"We can fix this," Marco said. "Cable's coming. Faster internet. We can start over. Streaming services we never signed up for. A new router."

Elena looked at him—really looked at him. This was his solution: upgrades, external changes, anything to avoid looking at the rot inside.

"Bast scratches at the bedroom door every morning," she said. "Since you started sleeping in the guest room. He thinks you're still in there."

She set down her racket. The game was over.

"You can pick up your things when the cable guy comes," she said. "Friday at two. Don't be late."

Bast meowed, demanding dinner. Elena picked him up, burying her face in his fur. Some connections were still intact. Some hadn't frayed yet.

Marco's iPhone buzzed again. This time, he looked.