The Glass Wall

Margot left on a Tuesday, taking everything except the goldfish. Carlos watched the bowl shimmer in the morning light, a single orange carp suspended in its own silence, mouth opening and closing in endless, soundless pleas.

'That's Bennett,' his daughter had said three years ago, dumping the responsibility on him during custody week. 'He's depressed.'

Carlos understood Bennett now. He'd started taking vitamin D supplements—the ones Margot had ordered in bulk, their expiration dates stretching toward a future she wouldn't share. The bottle sat on the counter like a reminder of everything he'd failed to absorb.

His therapist suggested he find something social. That's how he ended up at the padel club, standing before a glass wall that enclosed what looked like tennis compressed into a quarter of its former self. The instructor, Elena, had eyes that held his for three seconds too long.

'You grip it like you're afraid it will hurt you,' she said, adjusting his hand on the racquet.

Her fingers were warm against his. He thought about Margot's hands, how they'd stopped reaching for him years ago, how they'd packed themselves into boxes while he slept.

'Again,' Elena said.

He hit the ball. It sailed past him, rebounded off the glass, and struck him squarely in the chest. The group laughed. Elena didn't.

Afterward, she sat beside him on the bench. 'My ex-husband plays like that. Like everything he touches might break.'

'Did it?'

'Everything except him.' She touched his wrist. 'You're taking something for that, aren't you?'

He glanced at his open bag, the orange vitamins visible through a mesh pocket. 'They say it helps with mood.'

'I keep meaning to get some.' She paused. 'My goldfish died last week. Swam upside down for days before I could bring myself to flush it.'

'Bennett's been depressed for three years,' Carlos said.

'Sounds like he needs a partner.' She smiled, and something in his chest—a glass wall he hadn't known existed—cracked open.

At home, he sprinkled the flakes into the bowl. Bennett rose to the surface, mouth opening, orange scales catching the lamp light. Carlos watched him swim, finally moving, finally hungry. Tomorrow, he'd buy a second bowl. Tomorrow, he'd ask Elena to play after class. The vitamins could wait.