The Riddle of Us

The notification lit up her iPhone at 3 AM — another text from him, already three hours old. Elena stared at the screen, the blue glow casting ghosts across the hotel room ceiling. Tomorrow she'd face the sphinx of partners at the merger meeting, riddle her with questions about numbers she'd stopped caring about months ago. But tonight, the only riddle that mattered was why Marcus had started playing padel three times a week with his junior associate, the one with the Instagram full of sunset selfies.

She remembered their first real conversation — standing outside that dive bar in Wicker Park, him recounting how he'd once encountered a black bear while camping in the Smokies. "It looked right through me," he'd said, eyes wide with the memory. "Like it knew something I didn't." Elena had laughed, but something in his voice had made her believe him. That was seven years ago. Now the only thing that looked through her was the bear of loneliness that had taken up permanent residence in their king bed.

His texts were always the same now: Busy tonight. Working late. Padel ran long. Baseball metaphors for their life: he kept swinging for fences elsewhere while she watched from the dugout, waiting for a pitch that never came. She'd struck out trying to save something that had already entered extra innings.

Elena's finger hovered over the delete button. Instead, she opened the photos app — digital archaeology of a relationship. There they were at Wrigley, drunk on cheap beer and possibility. There was that weekend in Asheville, hiking trails where bears roamed, neither of them caring. The sphinx had asked her question: What happens when you stop recognizing the person sleeping beside you?

She'd spent months bearing the weight of unspoken words, carrying it like a stone in her chest. But sphinxes don't keep secrets forever. Eventually, they devour those who cannot solve their riddles.

The phone buzzed again. You up?

Elena typed three words, hit send, then turned off the device. The bear in the bed finally had room to breathe. Tomorrow's sphinx would have to wait.