The Fox at Sunset

Elena found the bottle of vitamin D supplements on Marcus's nightstand, exactly where he'd left them three months ago. That was Marcus—meticulous about his health, careless about her heart. She swept them into the trash with the rest of his life.

Outside, the neighbor's orange cat sat on the fence, watching with indifferent yellow eyes. Elena had never liked cats—too independent, too willing to walk away when they stopped getting what they needed. Like Marcus.

Her phone buzzed. Julian, wanting to play padel at the club. The irony wasn't lost on her: Marcus had introduced her to Julian, his business partner and best friend, six months before everything fell apart. Now Julian was the only person from that life who still called.

She met him at court four. The asphalt still radiated heat from the afternoon sun as they volleyed back and forth, the rhythmic pop of the ball against their rackets the only conversation between them. Elena's ponytail swung with each serve, sweat tracing down her spine. She played aggressively, channeling every angry thought into her swing.

"You're going to break something," Julian said during a water break, leaning against the fence. His shirt was soaked through, and for the first time, Elena noticed how his wet hair curled at his temples. He wasn't wearing his wedding ring—Marcus had mentioned he'd taken it off after his own divorce. "You're angry."

"I'm not angry," she lied, squeezing her water bottle until the plastic creaked.

"Marcus is seeing someone," Julian said quietly. "Someone from the gym."

The padel racket slipped from Elena's fingers and clattered onto the court. The sound echoed in the empty space between them.

"He's a fox," Julian continued, not meeting her eyes. "Charming, always looking for the next opportunity. You were never just you to him, Elena. You were always convenience."

The orange cat appeared near the edge of the court, tail twitching as it watched a lizard dart into the bushes. Elena thought about all those vitamins Marcus took—nutrients for a body he'd cultivated like a garden, while his heart lay fallow. She thought about the padel matches Marcus had cancelled for "important meetings," the business trips that coincided with holidays.

"You knew," she said, turning to Julian. His face was flushed, whether from the heat or something else.

"I didn't want to be the one to tell you."

Elena picked up her racket. The grip felt slippery in her damp palm. "Play."

They played until sunset painted the sky in bruised purples and golds, until Elena's muscles screamed and her thoughts finally quieted. As they walked to their cars, Julian touched her arm—tentative, careful.

"Same time next week?"

She looked at him, really looked at him, and wondered what else she'd missed while she was busy being convenient for the wrong man. "Same time."

The orange cat watched from the fence as Elena drove away, leaving nothing behind but tire tracks on the asphalt and the echo of a ball against a racket.