The Riddle at the End

Marcus stood by the lake's edge, watching the water darken as the sun dipped behind the hills. Beside him, Elena remained silent—his own personal sphinx, enigmatic and impossible to read, even after seven years of marriage. She held an orange in one hand, her thumb worrying the peel, releasing tiny bursts of citrus into the cooling air.

"You're not going to say anything?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

She peeled the orange slowly, deliberately. The sound seemed deafening against the water's gentle lapping. "What is there to say, Marcus? You've already made your decision."

"It's not that simple."

"It never is." She offered him a segment. He shook his head. "But it is, actually. You accepted the promotion. You're moving to Chicago. That's a decision."

"I thought we'd figure it out together."

"Together." She laughed softly, without humor. "You chose this path when you stopped asking me what I wanted. Three years ago? Four?" She popped the orange segment into her mouth. "You've been solving your own riddles for so long you've forgotten anyone else was playing the game."

Marcus watched an orange peel float toward the water's edge, caught by an invisible current. "I did this for us. For our future."

"Whose future, Marcus?" She turned toward him then, and for the first time all evening, he could read her clearly. The sphinx had dropped its mask. "You've been building something, yes. But you haven't noticed that I stopped helping you lay the bricks a long time ago."

The water lapped at his shoes now, the lake's edge less distinct than he'd realized. He'd been standing on the shore for so long he hadn't noticed himself drifting.

"What are you saying?"

Elena swallowed. "I'm saying that some riddles don't have answers. Some marriages are just two people waiting for the other person to finally say what they both already know." She tossed the rest of the orange into the lake, where it floated—a small, bright offering to the darkness between them.

"You're not coming with me."

"No," she said. "I'm not."

The water continued its patient work. Somewhere far off, a bird called out once, then fell silent. Marcus nodded, finally understanding the riddle he'd spent half a decade refusing to solve.

"The promotion," he said. "It starts in three weeks."

"I know," said Elena. "I'll be gone by then."