The Goldfish at the Edge of the Pool

Marissa stood at the edge of the pool, nursing her third gin and tonic, watching the orange goldfish dart between lily pads in the decorative pond nearby. She should have been networking—this was the firm's annual summer party, after all—but instead she felt like a zombie moving through the motions of a life that no longer fit her.

Three years as a corporate spy, stealing trade secrets from rival pharmaceutical companies, had hollowed her out in ways she'd never expected. The money was excellent. The danger was intoxicating, at first. But lately, she found herself forgetting who she was supposed to be in any given moment. Which cover story? Which fake name? Which carefully constructed lie?

"You look like you're plotting something," a voice said beside her.

She turned to find David—the man she'd been sleeping with for six months, the man who still believed she was a patent attorney. The man who had no idea she'd been sent to spy on his company's latest Alzheimer's research.

"Just thinking about goldfish," she said, gesturing to the pond. "Did you know their memories only last three seconds? Sometimes I envy them."

David laughed, but his eyes searched hers. "That's a myth, actually. They remember for months."

She should tell him the truth. About everything. But instead she found herself reaching for his hand, interlacing their fingers. The pool lights shimmered on the water's surface, casting wavering reflections across his face. In this moment, she wasn't a spy. She wasn't a zombie.

"What would you remember?" she asked quietly. "If you could only hold onto three things from your whole life?"

He squeezed her hand. "The way my mother laughed. This summer. The way you looked when I first saw you."

Marissa's throat tightened. She had three weeks before her extraction. Three weeks before she disappeared from his life completely, leaving behind only the ghost of a woman who never really existed.

The goldfish broke the surface, catching an insect, then disappeared back into the dark water. Some memories, she realized, were better left forgotten. Others would haunt you forever.