The Supplement to Everything

The padel court echoed with the rhythm of a marriage ending. Thwack. Thwack. The ball against the glass walls, precise and practiced, unlike the words Marcus and Elena hadn't spoken for three months. They played Tuesday evenings because their therapist suggested shared activities. She suggested something that would 'reignite passion.' Instead, they'd found a way to sweat in silence together.

Elena's cat, Barnaby, waited at home—their home, still technically shared though Marcus slept in the guest room. Barnaby had been Elena's impulse purchase five years ago, when they'd both believed that spontaneous acquisitions were what people did when they were in love. Now the cat was eighteen, arthritic, and Marcus secretly increased his thyroid medication by half a pill each morning because the euthanasia conversation felt like surrender.

'Do you want to get dinner after?' Marcus asked, scraping sweat from his forehead with the hem of his shirt. They stood at the net, that awkward distance between opponents who used to be partners in every sense.

Elena adjusted her ponytail, avoiding his eyes. 'I have that work thing. The merger.' She checked her phone again, though it hadn't buzzed. 'Actually, I need to tell you something.' She laughed, that tight sound he'd come to dread. 'I've been seeing someone. Not—sexually. But emotionally. It's—'

'John from HR,' Marcus finished.

Her head snapped up. 'How did you—'

'You mentioned his insight about organizational systems six times last week. You're taking those vitamin D supplements he recommended. You're happier than you've been in months.' Marcus bent to retrieve his water bottle, hiding his face. 'I'm not angry, El. I'm relieved.' He straightened, meeting her gaze. 'This gives us permission to stop trying.'

The silence between them felt different now—not heavy with unsaid things, but empty in a way that might become peaceful. Eventually.

'Barnaby needs his meds at eight,' Elena said quietly.

'I know,' Marcus said. 'I've been giving them to him. I thought—maybe we were waiting for something to get better.' He shouldered his bag. 'I'll stay at David's tonight. You should have John over. Talk about whatever you talk about when it's not about us.'

'Marcus—'

'No.' He smiled, and it almost reached his eyes. 'We're done performing recovery. That's the vitamin we've been taking, hoping it would fix something terminal.' He walked toward the exit, then turned back. 'You played well tonight.'