The Tank

The goldfish died again. Third time this year. I flushed it without ceremony, watching the orange scales spiral into darkness, wondering if I should even bother replacing it. Probably not. Most things in this apartment don't last.

Then again, I'm the one who's been.

The dead bolt turned. Sarah's key in the lock. I straightened, wiping damp hands on my jeans. She came in smelling of other people's cigarettes, expensive perfume that wasn't hers, exhaustion.

"Rough day?"

"You could say that." She dropped her bag, sank onto the couch. Buster, our retriever, immediately abandoned his post by the empty aquarium to rest his head on her knee. She scratched behind his ears mechanically, eyes fixed on something I couldn't see.

"They're watching me," she said.

I stiffened. "Who?"

"Corporate. The new VP. He's got people." She laughed bitterly. "Spying on employees. Reading emails, tracking movement. Someone followed me to lunch today."

My stomach hollowed. "Did you—" Did you see me? I'd been three tables behind her at the café yesterday, watching.

"I'm going to quit," she continued. "Just running away. Start over somewhere."

"And leave Buster?"

"No. But everything else. This place. This life." She looked around our living room like she was seeing it for the first time. "Sometimes I feel like I'm already gone, you know? Like I'm just walking through everything. A zombie going through motions."

The words twisted in my chest. I wanted to confess—about the private investigator I'd hired last month, the suspicions about her late nights, the surveillance photos in my desk drawer. About how I was the spy.

"We could fix this," I said instead. "Whatever's wrong."

"Can you?" She finally looked at me, really looked at me. "Can either of us?"

Buster whined, sensing the fracture. Between us, the empty fish tank reflected two people who'd already stopped swimming, just floating in the same water, waiting to surface or drown.

"I'll get another fish tomorrow," I said.

She nodded, like this meant something.

Neither of us believed it.