The Color of Goodbye

Elena stood before the mirror, pulling at the stray gray hair that had appeared overnight. At forty-two, she'd stopped counting. Her husband Marco called them 'wisdom strands,' but lately he'd stopped noticing much of anything about her.

"You coming to the padel match?" Marco called from the hallway, already dressed in his whites, the uniform of their Saturday morning social circuit. "Carlos and Sofia are waiting."

"In a minute," she lied. She watched his reflection retreat — still handsome, still distant, still checking his phone when he thought she wasn't looking.

The club terrace smelled of expensive sunscreen and idle wealth. Elena ordered a fresh orange juice, watching Carlos serve to Sofia. The ball hit the padel racket with a satisfying thwack. Then she saw it — the way Marco looked at Sofia when she laughed, a particular softness he hadn't shown Elena in years. The way Sofia's hand lingered on his shoulder between games.

The juice turned bitter in her mouth. She'd suspected for months. The late 'work emergencies,' the new cologne, the sudden interest in Spanish tennis lessons.

"Everything all right, darling?" Marco asked, returning to the table, sweat glistening on his forehead.

Elena smoothed back an errant lock of hair, meeting his eyes with a calm she didn't feel. "Never better." She gestured toward the orange grove beyond the courts. "Did you know oranges are actually berries?"

Marco blinked. "What?"

"Scientific fact. Modified berries with a tough rind." She smiled, thin and sharp. "Some things look perfect on the outside, but inside — " She tapped the juice glass. "— they're just sections hiding in the dark."

The color drained from his face.

"Pack your things when we get home," she said, standing up. "I've already booked your flight to Madrid. You and Sofia can perfect your backhand there."

Marco's mouth opened, closed. The silence stretched between them, heavy and final.

Elena walked toward the exit, the Spanish sun warm on her back. Somewhere, an orange fell from a tree and hit the ground with a soft thud. She didn't look back.