The Wellness Retreat

Marcus stood in his bathroom, staring at the amber bottle. Another day, another **vitamin** D supplement—his company's wellness program insisted on it. They called it the Sunshine Initiative. He called it something to distract them from the fact that half the department was about to be laid off.

He swallowed it dry, the pill scraping his throat.

The conference room in Cancun was suffocating despite the ocean view. Six senior VPs sat around a table, and Marcus—the newest VP—had drawn the short straw. He placed the ridiculous **hat** on his head. It was straw, wide-brimmed, and had a fake parrot stitched onto the band. Team building, they'd said. Leadership vulnerability exercises.

"Now," the facilitator announced, "each person will receive a palm reading to understand their leadership path."

Marcus almost laughed. They'd flown them to Mexico for corporate astrology.

The woman who approached him was maybe thirty, with intelligent eyes that seemed to see through everything. She took his hand, her fingers tracing the lines of his **palm** with surprising gentleness.

"You're lonely," she said softly, too quietly for the others to hear. "You think this is what you wanted. The money, the title. But you've been someone else for so long that you've forgotten who you actually are."

Marcus's chest tightened.

"There's a child," she continued, "someone who needs you. And a decision you need to make—not about your career, but about your life."

His ex-girlfriend had called him yesterday. Their daughter, seven years old, had asked why Daddy never came to visit. Marcus had always been too busy climbing.

That evening, he stood on his balcony, still wearing the stupid hat. The ocean stretched dark and endless before him. He'd spent fifteen years chasing things that didn't matter, taking vitamins for a life that was slowly killing him.

He pulled out his phone and booked a flight home.

The hat, he left on the railing. Let someone else wear it. He was done playing parts.