The Seventh Inning Stretch

The stadium lights hummed above us, casting everything in a harsh, artificial glow. The baseball game had dragged into the seventh inning, and somewhere in the distance, a fox had apparently been spotted near the parking lot — the crowd around us was buzzing about it, phones raised, more interested in wildlife than the score on the field.

Mara wasn't watching either. She'd bought the hat three weeks ago, when she still thought marriage counseling might work. The brim hid her face, but I knew she was crying. Not the messy kind — Mara never did messy in public — just the quiet leaking that happened when you'd run out of words.

"I'm going to the restroom," she said, standing up. Her legs brushed mine. No touch.

I watched her walk up the concrete steps, becoming smaller against the backdrop of thousands of strangers cheering for men they'd never meet. The guy behind me spilled his water. Ice cubes skittered across my seat and onto my pants. I brushed them off, mechanically, thinking how this was us — cold, melting away, leaving rings on everything we touched.

That's when I noticed: her phone, still sitting on the armrest between us.

I shouldn't have looked. But the cat video was already playing — some orange thing knocking a glass off a table, over and over in an infinite loop of destruction. The caption: "When he's mad you didn't share your dinner."

It was an inside joke from five years ago, back when we had inside jokes. Back before infertility treatments. Before the promotion that required the relocation she refused. Before love calcified into resentment wearing the face of practicality.

The video restarted.

I looked up toward the restrooms. She wasn't coming back. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

Somewhere beyond the stadium walls, that fox was probably slipping back into the woods, wild and unbelonging, knowing exactly where it needed to go.

I shut off her phone and placed it on my seat. The water on my pants had already soaked through to my skin. Cold. But I stayed.

The crowd roared. Someone had hit a home run.

I didn't look to see which team.