The Last Game

Elena's goldfish floated belly-up in the bowl, its orange scales catching the morning light that should have felt warm but didn't. Three years of silent swimming, now over. David had already left for his padel match—their Wednesday ritual, though she'd stopped joining months ago.

She dressed in his old sweatshirt, the one still smelling faintly of cedar and something she couldn't name anymore. The cable box blinked 12:00 in the corner, another thing she kept meaning to fix but never did.

The courts were empty except for David and Sarah, their laughter carrying across the artificial turf. Sarah played padel like she lived—with a calculated ruthlessness that David claimed was just confidence. Elena had watched them for weeks, the way Sarah's hand lingered on David's back after points, the way he leaned into it.

A fox emerged from the brush behind the courts, its russet coat brilliant against the dull gray sky. It watched them, head cocked, before turning toward Elena. Their eyes met—amber to amber—and in that moment, she understood something about instinct, about survival.

She didn't approach. Instead, she walked to their shared locker, the one David hadn't emptied despite her repeated requests. Inside: his childhood tennis racket, old concert tickets, a bag of fish food. The goldfish had been his idea, something to "brighten up the place."

The fox was still watching as she dumped everything into the trash bin.

David found her at home that evening, staring at the empty fishbowl. "Where's Goldie?" he asked, using that ridiculous name she'd hated from the start.

"Gone."

"But I fed her yesterday—"

"The cable's disconnected too," she said, though it wasn't true. "And I changed the locks."

He laughed nervously, like she was making one of her jokes. "Come on, Elena. Sarah's just a friend from the league—"

"The fox knew," she said. "She watched us both for ten minutes and she knew."

He stopped laughing. Outside, something screamed—a rabbit, maybe, or something else that hadn't moved fast enough.

"Your stuff's in the garage," she said. "Don't forget your fish food."