The Padel Court at Sunset

The orange sun dipped behind the palm trees as Elena stepped onto the padel court, her racket feeling foreign in hands that had typed ten thousand emails this past month alone. The corporate retreat had been David's idea — a way to fix what was broken between them through structured activities and forced teamwork. But Elena had stopped believing in fixes months ago.

She watched him across the net, laughing at something their boss said, his head thrown back, that fox-like grin she'd fallen for ten years ago now looking more like a performance than genuine joy. When had they started performing for each other?

'You ready, El?' David called, bouncing the ball.

She nodded, unable to find her voice. The game began, and she moved through the motions like a zombie — arms heavy, legs responding to muscle memory while her mind drifted elsewhere. They'd had the same argument last night. David wanted to try again, wanted counseling, wanted the version of Elena who still believed in their future. That Elena had died somewhere between his promotion and her miscarriage, somewhere in the accumulation of small disappointments that no single fight could resolve.

The ball came at her and she swung, missed. David's expression flickered — concern? Annoyance? She couldn't tell anymore.

'You okay?' he asked, walking to the net.

Elena studied him — the man she'd built a life with, whose face she knew better than her own. The palm fronds cast shadows across his tired eyes. She realized suddenly that she didn't hate him. She simply didn't know how to love him anymore.

'I'm fine,' she said, and meant it. Not fine like everything would be okay, but fine like she'd finally accepted what she had to do.

The orange glow deepened as the sun sank lower. One more game, she thought. One more game, and then she would tell him she wanted a divorce. But for now, she bent to pick up the ball, grateful for this borrowed time before everything changed.