The Riddle of Us

Maya's gray hair had been coming in faster since the divorce. She pulled a strand back from her forehead as she stared at the garden sphinx statue—its stone face weathered, riddle worn smooth by decades of rain. It had been her mother's, now it sat in Maya's backyard, mocking her with its eternal smile.

"You're avoiding him," Elena said, setting down two wine glasses. They'd been friends since college, before Elena's promotion to VP, before Maya's marriage collapsed, before everything got complicated.

"I'm not avoiding anyone."

"Marcus asked about you. At the company retreat. He seemed hurt." Elena's voice was careful, measured. Like she was navigating a minefield.

Maya thought about the cable that ran between their apartments—they'd joked it was a lifeline during the pandemic, streaming movies together every Friday night. Then Marcus had been promoted, moved to the corporate office, and the cable had gone slack. Distance wasn't just physical anymore.

"He's busy. I'm busy. That's all."

Elena sighed, spearing a piece of spinach from the salad bowl. "You know, research says people lose half their friends every seven years. Something about life stages, moving, changing priorities. But you and Marcus—you had something real."

"Had," Maya said. "Past tense."

"You still could. If you'd just—"

"What? Call him? Say hey, sorry I couldn't handle your promotion while my life was falling apart? Sorry I felt like a failure every time you talked about your new corner office?" Maya's voice cracked. "Friends grow apart, Elena. It's what happens."

The sphinx seemed to watch them both, its secret locked in stone. The real riddle wasn't what it had asked travelers in the myth. It was simpler, harder: How do you hold onto someone when you're both becoming people you don't recognize?

"Maybe," Elena said softly, "the riddle isn't why we lose people. It's why we're so afraid to fight for them."

Maya's phone buzzed on the table. A notification from Marcus: *Saw something that made me think of you.* She stared at it, pulse quickening. The cable between them hadn't been cut after all. It had just gone quiet, waiting for someone to pull it tight again.

Outside, the sphinx kept its secrets. Inside, Maya made her choice.