The Wellness Pool

Maya had been running on caffeine and delusion for three weeks when the email arrived. The subject line—mandatory wellness retreat—made her laugh into her lukewarm coffee.

The office pool had started as a joke. Five dollars in, winner takes all, predicting who would be the first to crack under the new regime. "It's not a betting pool," Carlos had insisted when he set it up. "It's a community-building exercise." The irony was rich, considering the company had just laid off the entire community-building team.

Now it was just Maya, Carlos, and Sarah in the break room, counting the cash. Forty-seven dollars. Not quite enough to matter, not little enough to ignore.

"You think they'd notice if we bought vitamins instead?" Sarah asked, staring at the corporate wellness poster on the wall. Vitamin C, Vitamin D, Vitamin savings account.

Maya's phone buzzed. Her husband, again. Are you coming home tonight?

She'd been running late every night that week, staying at the office until the cleaning crew came through, pretending to work on spreadsheets she no longer cared about. The truth was, their apartment felt smaller lately. Like the walls were closing in, or maybe she was just expanding with all the things she couldn't say.

"The retreat is at a spa," Carlos said, counting out bills. "Pool, sauna, the works. Management's way of saying 'sorry we eliminated your pensions.'"

The pool. Maya had stopped swimming after college, after the accident she didn't talk about. Something about water, about how it could hold you or drown you depending on the day.

"Hey," Sarah said softly. "You okay?"

Maya realized she was gripping the edge of the table so hard her knuckles had turned white. "Fine. Just—vitamin deficiency, probably."

They all laughed, because that's what you do when the truth is too heavy to carry.

That night, Maya stood in the supplement aisle at the grocery store, staring at rows of promises in bright orange bottles. Vitamin for energy, vitamin for sleep, vitamin for the life you used to have.

Her phone lit up with a notification: the office pool had a new entry. Someone had bet on her.

She bought the vitamins anyway.