The Storm We Made

Maria pressed her palm against the window, feeling the glass vibrate with the thunder. Outside, the storm raged, each bolt of **lightning** illuminating the kitchen where they'd had breakfast that morning—the papaya now soft and forgotten on the counter.

"You're doing it again," David said, not looking up from his laptop. "Running away before we've even started."

"I'm not running." She turned from the window. "I'm just... I can't breathe in this apartment anymore."

They'd been back from Costa Rica for three weeks. Three weeks of him waking at 5 AM to check Asian markets, three weeks of her feeling like she'd brought home the wrong person. On the beach, he'd paid someone to read their futures in the creases of her palm. She'd laughed about it then, but the woman had kept glancing at David, uneasy.

"The bull market won't last forever," she'd said. "And neither will you two."

David closed his laptop finally. The silence between them felt heavy, expectant.

"Is this about the job offer?" he asked quietly. "Because I told you, it's not forever. Just until—"

"Until what? Until you've made enough? Until you've proven something to your father?" Maria's voice cracked. "David, you've been chasing something since I met you. I thought in Costa Rica, maybe..."

Outside, the rain intensified. She remembered how he'd held her wrist in the surf, showing her the tiny bioluminescent creatures glowing like stars in the dark water. For three days, she'd believed they could be different people.

"I'm doing this for us," he said.

"Are you?" She looked at the papaya on the counter, its golden flesh now spotted with brown. "Or are you just terrified of what happens when you stop running?"

The lightning flashed again, and in that brief illumination, she saw his face—exhausted, uncertain, finally honest.

"Maybe both," he whispered.

Maria crossed the room and took his hands, his palms warm against hers. Some storms you weather. Others, you ride into the unknown together. Tomorrow, she'd call her sister about that guest house in Oaxaca. Tonight, she just sat with him as the rain washed the city clean.