The Vitamins We Swallow

The market had been in bear territory for three months when Marcus started taking the vitamin D supplements. His doctor had warned him about low levels, but it felt like another thing failing—his portfolio, his marriage, now his body.

He sat by the pool at the health club, watching the water ripple in the artificial blue rectangle. The supplements sat in a white bottle on the bench beside him, a promise of improvement he couldn't quite believe in.

"You're here early."

Marcus looked up. It was Elena from the trading floor, the one everyone called the fox for her ability to slip out of doomed positions before anyone else sensed the collapse. She wore a swimsuit that revealed a constellation of moles across her shoulder blades.

"Couldn't sleep," Marcus said.

She sat beside him, not touching but close enough that he could smell her perfume—something with bergamot. "The bull market feels like a dream I had once."

Marcus laughed bitterly. "My wife left because I stopped being a person and started being a balance sheet. Now I'm taking vitamins to fix something I can't even see."

Elena picked up the bottle. "My mother took these every morning. Still died at fifty-three."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"It's supposed to remind you that some things aren't about performance." She set the bottle down, her fingers lingering near his. "The pool's heated. Want to get in?"

The water was warmer than the air. They swam in silence, side by side, not touching but creating parallel currents. Something in Marcus's chest loosened—not the vitamins, not the market, but the simple fact of being witnessed.

Later, in the locker room, they didn't exchange numbers. They both knew there were things you couldn't fix, only endure. The bear market would end. The vitamins might or might not work. But for once, Marcus didn't need everything to add up.

He swallowed the pill dry, thinking how some chokes are necessary.