The Last Padel Match

The fiber optic cable lay severed across Marco's living room floor, a dark snake against the marble tiles. Three days without internet, and he hadn't noticed. That's what scared Elena most when she let herself in with the spare key.

"You're becoming a zombie," she said, dropping her padel bag beside the couch. Marco didn't look up from his phone—though the screen showed nothing but the time. "That promotion ate you alive."

"I'm fine."

"You haven't returned my calls in two weeks." She kicked the cable. "This has been cut since Monday, and you didn't even call the provider."

Marco finally met her eyes. His own were bloodshot, skin grayish. "I worked sixty hours last week. The firm—"

"—the firm can wait. We're playing padel. Now."

She dragged him to the court, his movements stiff and mechanical. On the court, something in him awakened. For twenty minutes, they played—the ball cracking against the walls, Marco's breath coming faster, his shoulders loosening. Elena remembered why they'd been friends for twelve years.

Then his phone buzzed from the bench. Once. Twice. Marco's face closed again, the zombie returning.

"It's Anders," he said. "He needs the Richardson brief by tomorrow morning."

"Marco, it's Friday night."

"He said if I don't deliver, I'm off the partnership track." Marco's voice cracked. "I can't lose this. I gave them everything."

"You gave them your soul."

"I have a mortgage, Elena. Not everyone can—" He stopped himself, but the bull was already out of the stall.

"Not everyone can what?" Her voice went quiet. "Live paycheck to paycheck while judging people who actually feel things?"

Marco flinched. "That's not what I meant."

"It's exactly what you meant." She shouldered her bag. "You know what's sad? That severed cable at your apartment? At least it has an excuse for being disconnected."

The slam of the court door echoed like a gunshot. Marco stood alone, the paddle heavy in his hand, his phone vibrating against the bench—Anders again, undoubtedly. The Richardson brief waited, but for the first time in three years, Marco couldn't make himself move.