The Padel Court at Sunset

The ball hit the wire fence with a sound like something final. Elena wiped her forehead with the palm of her hand, sweat and sunscreen mixing on her skin. Across the court, Marcus stood with his racquet loose at his side, not looking at her.

"You're not even trying anymore," she said, breathing harder than the rally deserved.

"I'm thirty-nine, Elena. Not twenty." He walked to the net, their padel game unfinished. "Maybe that's the problem."

A golden retriever trotted along the perimeter of the court, tennis ball in its mouth, looking for someone to play. It belonged to the couple in villa 4—Elena had seen them walking it every morning, holding hands like they hadn't learned yet what holding hands could cost.

"The dog has more enthusiasm for fetch than you have for us," she said, and the words hung there, heavier than she intended.

Marcus's jaw tightened. "Is that what this vacation is? Another attempt to fix what's been broken since before I even met you?"

Elena didn't answer. Instead she walked to the edge of the court where the palm trees cast long shadows across the artificial grass. She'd chosen this resort specifically because it reminded her of their honeymoon—the same desperate turquoise of the pool, the same relentless sun. But memory was a liar that way. It smoothed over all the jagged parts.

"I'm going swimming," she said, pulling her dress over her head before reaching the pool's edge. She didn't wait for him to follow.

The water was shock-cold, swallowing her whole. For a moment she stayed underwater, letting the silence press against her ears, imagining she could stay down forever. Then she surfaced, gasping, to find Marcus sitting on a lounge chair, the dog now curled at his feet. He was watching her with an expression she couldn't read.

"I sold the shares," he said quietly as she pulled herself from the water. "The ones you said would ruin us if I liquidated."

Elena wrapped herself in a towel, her skin prickling. "Why?"

"Because." His voice caught. "Because I thought maybe if I wasn't that person anymore—the cautious one, the boring one—you'd look at me like you used to."

The dog lifted its head, sensing something. Elena stepped closer, water dripping from her hair onto the concrete. She placed her palm against his cheek, feeling the rough stubble, the familiar lines of his face.

"I never wanted you to be someone else," she said. "I wanted us to be somewhere else."

Marcus covered her hand with his. "We can be."

She looked at the empty padel court behind him, the net between them finally gone. "Then let's not finish the game."

The dog let out a soft bark as they stood, and together they walked back to the villa, leaving the court to the coming dark.