The Last Summer

The chlorine stung my eyes, but I kept them open, watching from the lounge chair as Elena climbed out of the pool. Her wet hair plastered against her back like dark seaweed, dripping water that caught the dying light. Fifteen years of marriage, and I still couldn't look away.

She toweled off, wrapping herself in white terry cloth that glowed against her bronzing skin. I adjusted my hat, pulling the brim lower to hide the fact that I'd been crying—not that she'd notice anymore. We'd both become experts at not seeing what was right in front of us.

"Richard?" she called, and I realized I'd missed something. "Did you hear what I said?"

"Sorry. Long day. Feeling like a bit of a zombie." The excuse was tired, but so was I. Three months of her silence, her late nights at the office, her phone always face down on the bedside table. I'd stopped asking questions.

She sat beside me, not touching me. "I was talking about the corporate retreat. David—that new VP? He's planning this whole team-building thing. Rodeo themed. Can you imagine me on a bull?"

I laughed, but it sounded hollow. "David with the wandering eyes and the corner office?" I squeezed the armrest until my knuckles whitened. "Sure. Sounds like hell."

She turned to me, and for the first time in months, really looked at me. Her fingers found mine, tentative. "I'm not going."

"What?"

"To the retreat. To any of it. David's been..." She swallowed hard. "I've been so lonely, Richard. In this marriage. I didn't know how to say it without breaking us."

My heart hammered against my ribs. The sun slipped below the horizon, painting the pool in impossible purples. "You're not the only one," I whispered. "I thought you'd already left me. In every way that matters."

She moved then, straddling the lounge chair, pulling off my hat so she could thread her fingers through my hair. "I'm right here," she said, and the way she said it—like she was just as surprised as I was—made something break open in my chest.

"Stay," I said. "Please just stay."

And she did. As the last light died and the pool turned dark as a mirror, she stayed.