The Lightning Across the Water

Marcus stood at the edge of the infinity pool, nursing whiskey he'd stolen from his brother's collection. Below, the lights of Los Angeles spread like a rash. The spinach from dinner—organic, locally sourced, pretentious—was still lodged between his molars. He'd been picking at it for an hour.

A fox emerged from the manicured hedges, its coat glowing copper in the pool's reflected light. It regarded him with eyes too intelligent for a wild thing, then padded to the water's edge and drank. Marcus watched, feeling strangely seen.

'You're not supposed to be here,' he murmured.

The fox lifted its head, water dripping from its muzzle. Neither was he.

Lightning fractured the sky—a strobe photograph of the moment. In that flash, he saw Elena's face as she'd pressed against him in the pantry earlier, her hands twisting in his shirt. The scent of her perfume mixed with something bitter. Guilt, he supposed. Or maybe just the spinach finally working its way loose.

His phone buzzed. Sarah. Again.

He'd married Sarah because she was safe. Elena was dangerous—she was the lightning strike that illuminated everything wrong with his carefully constructed life. The fox finished drinking and slipped back into the shadows.

'Marcus?' Elena's voice behind him. He didn't turn. 'Everyone's leaving.'

'Soon.'

She joined him at the edge. 'Your brother's passed out on the sofa.'

'So he's fine then.'

She laughed, but it sounded tired. Lightning struck again, closer this time. The pool surface shuddered.

'I wish it would storm,' she said. 'Really storm. Just wash everything clean.'

'Me too.' He thought of Sarah waiting at home, of the fox watching them both from somewhere in the darkness, of how quickly everything could unravel.

'Marcus—'

'Don't.' He finally turned to her. 'Just don't.'

She nodded once, sharply, and walked away. He stayed until the fox returned, until lightning struck somewhere so close the air smelled like ozone, until he understood that some things—foxes, storms, desire—couldn't be domesticated. The spinach was still in his teeth. Some messes you just had to live with.