The Things We Keep

Maria stared at the amber **vitamin** gummies in her palm—once a shared ritual, now another solo obligation. Marcus had left three months ago, taking the **dog** but leaving his childhood teddy **bear** on the closet shelf, its matted fur somehow accusing her.

Her **iPhone** lit up again: another perfectly curated photo from him. Bear at the beach. Bear at the new apartment. The bear had a better social life than she did.

Then there was the cat issue.

She'd never wanted cats. Marcus had brought Mittens home—surprise, second anniversary gift. Now Maria was stuck with a creature that yowled at 3 AM and knocked framed photos off surfaces, as if editing the narrative itself.

Last night, Maria found Mittens sleeping on the bear's face. She'd taken a photo, sent it to Marcus. He'd replied: 'LOL he loves him.'

She deleted the thread.

The vitamins were supposed to help with stress. The bottle promised 'emotional balance' in chezy blue font. Maria dry-swallowed three.

Her phone buzzed. A dating app notification: 'Someone likes you!'

She opened it. The guy's profile included a photo with a dog. Not their dog. A different, better dog.

Maria typed: 'Do you have a childhood teddy bear?'

Seen. No reply.

The cat jumped onto her lap, purring like a small engine. Outside, November rain streaked the window. Somewhere, Marcus was probably making his new girlfriend those magnesium drinks he swore by.

Maria petted the cat. It bit her hand, gently.

'Yeah,' she said aloud. 'I know.'