The Weight of Water

The pool at the Hotel Belvedere was never meant for swimming. It sat there like a turquoise wound in the courtyard, collecting rain and the occasional fallen leaf, while guests walked past with their rolling suitcases and their carefully curated griefs.

Maya had been watching it for three days from her third-floor balcony, nursing a gin and tonic that had long since gone warm in the humidity. Below her, the papaya tree dropped its fruit onto the concrete with a soft, repetitive thud—like a heartbeat, she thought, or maybe a clock counting down the hours until she had to return to a life that no longer fit her like it used to.

"You're going to spoil yourself for the real world," Richard had said that morning, his voice still thick with sleep. He was already packing his things, already gone from her even as he stood in their shared room. "Always watching, always waiting. Whatever happened to the woman who took risks?"

She had wanted to tell him that the woman who took risks had married him at twenty-three, had believed inForever, had emptied her savings account for a down payment on a house they would never live in together. Instead, she had said nothing, and he had finished packing in that terrible efficient silence of his.

Now the sun was beginning to set, painting the water in bruises of purple and gold. Maya watched as a young couple—no older than she and Richard had been at the start—waded into the pool fully dressed. The woman's white sundress billowed around her like a cloud, while the man held her hands, laughing as the water soaked them both. They looked ridiculous. They looked like they believed in things.

Maya finished her drink, the ice cubes clicking against her teeth. The papaya continued to fall, marking time she couldn't get back. Tomorrow she would fly home, would unpack the suitcase she had packed but never truly unpacked herself from. But tonight, she thought, watching the couple sink deeper into the blue, tonight she would simply let herself drown in the beauty of a thing she couldn't keep.