The Market Bears No Witness

The bull market had been kind to Marcus, but kindness, like everything else, has an expiration date.

He stood at the edge of the infinity pool at the Santorini resort, iphone clutched in his sweating palm. The screen remained obstinately dark. No notifications. No updates. Just the reflection of his own exhausted face staring back.

"You're going to worry a groove in that stone," Elena called from the pool deck. She was arranging herself on a chaise, pale skin glowing against the white limestone. "Come swim. The water's perfect."

"I can't. The call could come any minute."

"The call that was supposed to come two hours ago?" She didn't look up from her magazine. "Marcus, it's Saturday. Even venture capitalists have to sleep sometime."

He knew she was right, but the knowledge didn't loosen the knot in his chest. Three years of work, his entire savings poured into their startup, everything riding on this meeting with Andromeda Capital. His co-founder had bailed two months ago—"family reasons," though Marcus suspected he'd simply sensed the sinking ship before anyone else.

"Play padel with me," Elena tried again. She'd been trying to reach him all week, physically and otherwise. "Just one game. You used to love it."

"Not now."

She sighed, the sound barely audible over the distant lapping of waves against the cliff below. "You know what I saw on Instagram today? Your ex-wife posted pictures from Maui. She looks happy, Marcus. She looks like someone who knows how to be alive."

"Why are you bringing this up now?" His voice cracked.

"Because I'm trying to figure out if I'm making the same mistake she did." Elena finally looked at him, and the rawness in her eyes made him look away. "Waiting for someone who's already gone, just hasn't left yet."

His phone buzzed.

Marcus's heart slammed against his ribs as he lifted it. The screen illuminated.

*Weather alert: High wind advisory in effect until 8 PM.*

He laughed, the sound harsh and foreign even to his own ears. A weather alert. Of course.

"Marcus?"

"It's nothing," he said, and then he did something he hadn't done in days—he tossed the phone onto the nearby table. It landed with a soft thud. "You know what? Let's play."

Elena's expression softened, but warily. "Really?"

"Really. The bull market can wait. And so can Andromeda Capital."

She stood and walked to him, the water slick on her skin, and took his hand. "You sure about that?"

"No," he admitted, and pulled her close. "But I'm sure about this."