The Vitamin D Deficiency

Maya sat on the edge of the bed, watching James pack his duffel bag. His hair—thick, dark, always falling into his eyes when he laughed—was now matted from sleep and last night's argument. The coaxial cable lay severed on the floor like a dead snake, TV blacked out since she'd ripped it from the wall during their third round of screaming about nothing and everything.

"You're leaving?" she asked, though the answer was obvious.

"Just for a few days. I need to clear my head."

He zipped the bag with a sound that felt final. Maya's thumb found the vitamin bottle on her nightstand—Vitamin D, the doctor had prescribed. "You're deficient," he'd said, "that's why you're tired all the time." But Maya knew exhaustion wasn't about nutrients. It was about loving someone who was slowly becoming a stranger, about the way James had started looking at his phone more than her, about how they hadn't had sex in six weeks but had argued seven times since Tuesday.

"You promised we'd play padel this weekend," she said quietly. "We booked the court three weeks ago."

James paused. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Your brother's baseball game is more important."

"He's in the championship, Maya."

"Everything is more important lately."

The silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. She remembered when they'd met—how he'd made her laugh until her ribs ached, how he'd noticed the small scar above her left eyebrow and traced it with gentle fingers. Now he couldn't even remember to call when he'd be late for dinner.

"Maybe this is it," she whispered.

James's head snapped up. "What?"

"Maybe we're done. Maybe we've been done for a while and neither of us wanted to say it."

He stared at her, and for a moment she saw fear in his eyes. But fear of what? Losing her, or facing the truth?

"I'll be back Sunday," he said, shouldering his bag. "We can talk then."

The door clicked shut behind him. Maya lay back against the pillows, closed her eyes, and pretended she couldn't hear the refrigerator humming, the neighbor's dog barking, the city breathing outside her window. She'd forgotten to take her vitamin again. Somehow, that felt like the saddest part of all.